CASH ONLY
by I Write Big
Summary: Duke kitnapped li'l Judy. You know, Fru Fru's kit. The one who she named after Judy and so happens to be Mr. Big's granddaughter. Anyway, now Duke's in it for the long haul. The small time crook will have to improv his way through the biggest job he never intended all while discovering the true meaning of family! [T for swearing, LOTS OF SWEARING] Cover art by WastedTimeEE
1. UP FRONT

_A/N: I don't know if I'll ever write something as personal as "I Don't Get It" again. It might be years before I have the nerve to try. Until I get there, let's have an unusual adventure with the unlikeliest of heroes._

 _BIG THANKS TO MY COVER ARTIST "WastedTimeEE"! I can assure, despite the name, this artist is not a waste of time. I mean, have you seen the cover art for this story yet? It's beautiful! Oh, majestic!_

* * *

 **CA$H ONLY  
** _Chapter 1: U₱ ₣RON₮  
_ By: I Write Big

The adult tiger hugged the child weasel tightly. Around the pair, a crowd of supportive mammals applauded the public display of love. Their adventure together had been taxing and arduous but, at last, they could be a family.

"You were right, Gloria," the weasel said to her, holding the feline's fluffy cheeks, "I just had to be myself."

"Christ almighty," Duke Weaselton felt like he was going to be sick.

"Shh!" the pig in the row behind him hissed while leaning forward. Her girth shoved Duke's chair, nearly popping his soda out of the cup holder.

He gave the fat broad a look and settled in for the last of the movie, "Don't be mad at me, lady. Ya paid for dis trash," he whispered. Duke had always pondered what lonely housewives saw in this dreck. He wasn't generalizing. He counted at least forty wedding bands in the audience. All of them on broads with an empty chair next to them. At first he thought they were fantasizing about adopting a weasel like the one in the flick. If that pig was anything to go off of, then hell no. Maybe it was the love tale. Then where are the hubbys? Shouldn't they be here taking notes? Couldn't be the 'be tolerant of others' bull. That's grade school level shit. Hell, it was as cliche as it got. And of course a _weasel_ was typecasted as the tough, rude kid from the streets. Can't get too crazy and make them the hero. Well, it didn't matter. These suckers shelled out for the garbage and he was getting his cut.

"Sir, could you please come with me?"

Duke looked up at the puma usher. Her eerily reflective eyes were the only signs of her existence since her black fur was hidden in the dark theater. "Da hell? I'm watchin' a movie here!"

"Shh!"

"Let's not make a scene, sir. Just come with me."

"What, ya think cuz I'mma weasel I didn't pay?" He waved his _'ticket stub'_ in her snout wildly enough so she wouldn't be able to see it was actually a gum wrapper, "And here's da receipt for da soda too while you're at it." A used tissue. "Satisfied, cat?"

The usher wasn't fazed and pointed to the other cup holder, "Did you pay for the camera, as well?"

Duke turned to his moneymaker. The recording phone pointed at the screen was exposed. The monopod holding it up made it stand out like a lighthouse. The popcorn bucket with a hole in the side that he had tactfully placed over the phone now laid on the floor.

"Dat? Naw, dat's my, uh, my, uh… ugh, forget it."

He spun in his chair and threw his icy soda in the usher's face.

"AAAHH!"

"Shh!"

That was Duke's cue. The weasel grabbed his bootlegging equipment and scampered towards the exit. Not quick enough though. The soaked and shivering puma jumped over him and landed on all fours in the doorway. In that moment, Duke saw something. Something that made him realize this was no regular minimum wage movie usher he could simply outrun. Wrapped around the broad's finger was a ring of gold.

He gulped, "Housewife..."

The weasel changed course and dove into the chairs. Between the legs he burrowed his way. A chorus of yelps, squeals and shushes marked his path. Finally, he ran out of cover and found himself in the back row. The puma was already running along the seats towards him. He had no place to go… but up.

Taking firm hold of the decorative curtains hanging from the ceiling, he scaled towards the projector window. He felt a tug and dared to looked down. The puma's claws tore the thick fabric, but she was right on his tail.

Prying the window open with the monopod, Duke slipped into the projector room. He slammed the window shut, only for a meaty paw to smash through it. He gaped as the claws pulled the shattered frame to the side.

"Are ya on Night Howler?! It's just a movie!"

"The most _beautiful, heartfelt, honest_ movie of our time!" she screamed back.

"Shh!" hushed a watcher down below.

"And I'm not gonna let some _dirty, wily, little_ weasel ruin that for the rest of us!" she hefted her body inside with a guttural growl.

Duke rushed to the door, but there was a keypad, "Shit!"

"Nowhere left to run," her voice returned to the calm professional tone. "Now, sir, please hand over that phone." She held out her bleeding paw.

He frowned deeply as he raised the device, "Ya know what, ya oughta be in da _pictures!_ "

KER-FLASH!

The sudden bright light from his phone blinded the poor puma. She reeled back covering her burning eyeballs, howling to the sky. Duke ducked under her arms, his sights on the broken window. Escape!

Something snagged on the shoulder strap of his wifebeater and both he and the usher tumbled into the film projector.

On screen, "Gloria," the young weasel star whispered, "I was wondering… can I call you mom—" the film jumped and the sound warped, "MmMI'm shaRKTually in Dovel wIt shsiSEtr!?"

The movie ended.

"...Is that it?"

"Shh! Wait for the after credits scene."

* * *

Duke slumped against the steel table. Whoever designed this furniture clearly hadn't taken comfort into consideration. At least the cold metal numbed his bruises. Really anything would be more comfortable than looking back at the do-goody cottontail copper currently giving him the stinkeye of disappointment. Duke could deal with coppers harassing him, making the occasional speciesist insult under their breath. But each time he was booked, this bunny always pulled him aside for a stern talking to about how he needed to improve himself and shit like she was his mother or something. The interrogation room door opened and that orange-furred turncoat sauntered in and said, "Got the scissors."

"'Bout damn time, Wilde," Duke whined. He held out his arms which looked like they now had sleeves made of film.

The bunny cleared her throat, "What are we gonna do with you, Weselton?"

" _Weaselton_! Ya know it's _Weaselton_!" He wanted nothing more than to throttle her with those long ears of hers, but the slicing metal running up his forearm made him think twice.

"He's right, Carrots. You should know by now. We've only arrested him like, what, seven times?"

"Seventeen." The annoying fluffball opened his file, "Eleven counts of petty theft, three counts of disturbing the peace, two counts of selling illegal goods and one count of pirating 'Love Comes Fur Me.'"

Wilde snickered as he inspected a frame of film that pictured a kissing couple, "Jeez, Duke, didn't take you for a hopeless romantic."

"It's what da customers want!" Duke swiped his arms at him, "What's with da routine? Slap me on da wrist and lemme outta here already!"

The fox's smirk vanished and he took a seat next to the bunny, "Can't do that, Duke."

"At this point, you're considered a repeat offender. You are clearly showing no sign of stopping," the bunny shut the folder and looked at him with a surprising amount of sympathy… or was that pity? "On their own, these offenses would only get you fines and community service. But stacked? Judge can give five to ten years, _minimum_."

Duke's eyes bugged out of their sockets and his throat went dryer than a camel jogger in Sahara Square. "Five to ten? Ya serious?! What kinda rigged system is dis—" He stopped as he realized what she was getting at. "...What do ya want?"

Both of the coppers smiled.

"Simple," Wilde stirred his coffee, "Who's hiring you?"

"Hirin'? Do I look like an idiot? Ya think I'm takin' jobs again after dat Night Howler fiasco?"

Wilde kept stirring, never taking his lazy yet piercing gaze off Duke. The scrape of metal against porcelain rubbed Duke's ears in a bad way. "Maybe… be a pretty crazy coincidence you robbing a printer supply warehouse the same exact time as two other small time crooks on the other side of the city." Several photos slid across the metal. Each were security stills of Duke and a couple of mammals Duke had never seen before. They were all on their own, running out of different buildings with identical printers in their arms.

Duke tried to stop himself from laughing nervously like the guilty guy that he was, "Okay, so, I am takin' jobs again. But if ya two know me as well as ya think ya do, then ya know I only did it for da cash! Whatever they're up ta, I ain't a part of it!"

The bunny folded her arms on the table with a smug smile, "And you don't have to be. Last time, we forced a name out of you because we were desperate. This time, we're offering a deal."

Duke's ears perked. He liked where this was going.

"Give us a name and we'll wipe your record clean."

Duke waited for her to continue, but it seemed she was already waiting for his answer.

"What… What, dat's it? Ya can't be serious!" The bunny couldn't find a way to respond. Probably due to her tiny brain Duke reasoned. He turned to the fox, thinking the once fellow criminal would be straight with him. "Wilde, she ain't serious, is she?" He only shrugged, not showing any surprise. Duke rubbed his brow in frustration, "Listen, ya know-nothin' cottontail, how 'bout a real offer? I'm gettin' five ta ten years, minimum? Den let's say five ta ten thousand bucks, _minimum!_ "

The bucktooth flapped her stupid mouth several times before actual words tumbled out, "You-I-you-we're offering you a fresh start! A new lease on life! The freedom to be the mammal you always wanted! You can't put a price on that!"

"Just did." It was Duke's turn to fold his arms with a smug smile. This copper ain't got nothing.

She hopped onto the table with fire in her eyes. Her once timid voice rang with fury, "You think you have a choice?! You're stuck here until we drag you to court and sentence you to the big house! You cannot make bail!"

Duke shrank under the scary bunny's glare.

Wilde sipped his coffee.

The door cracked open, "Um… Judy?"

"WHAT?!" she yelled at the chubby cheetah.

"Mr. Weaselton just made bail. He's free to go."

Duke blinked. He hadn't even asked how much his bail was, let alone try to pay it. He looked at his two interrogators. The bunny's ears, arms and entire upper body had gone slack in sheer shock. Even Wilde managed to raise an interested eyebrow. Signs that this was for real.

"Would ya look at da time, coppers. I gotta be goin' but thanks for da offer." He strutted to the door with nobody stopping him. He gave the cat a pat, "Good job on da name, pal. Most here get it wrong."

Judy could only watch as her entire plan went up in smoke.

Nick swallowed the last of his joe, "Clawhauser, who paid?"

The messenger wrung his paws, "That's the thing..." he pulled out an envelope bulging with cash. He had taken the initiative to seal it in an evidence bag. "It just came in the mail."

On the package's face were the typed words, ' _For the weasel. Keep the change.'_

* * *

Whoever his mysterious benefactor was, Duke didn't care. There wasn't anymammal waiting for Duke outside, no mysterious black van, no manilla envelope with his name written in headlines. Only the open sky and fresh air.

Duke drank it all in with a toothy grin and said, "Welp, time ta jump da border."

'Bug Out Plan' was a term he first heard on 'Clawing Bad.' Duke had put one together for himself more to feel to cool than to be prepared. Still, it was actually paying off. There was zero chance those two coppers were gonna let this slide. Zootopia had been nice while it lasted. But if the ZPD wanted to put him away, then he needed to go where the ZPD couldn't reach him: South.

With a hop, skip and a jump, Duke arrived at his run-down slum of an apartment. The air conditioner never worked and he had to steal the wi-fi from the Bugga Burger next door, but the landlord was the kinda wallabee who kept his trap shut as long the rent was paid and Duke always paid early. No need to worry about him pointing the coppers in Duke's direction. Duke tossed all six of his shirts in a grocery bag. He kicked open his broken fridge and pulled out a twelve pack of Phull Muun: the worst brew known to mammalkind. Not even the homeless touched this rancid stuff. Which made it the perfect bank. Every cent he had ever made was stuffed in these bottles. Duke knew better than to trust his cash with real banks. Those suit-wearing, greedy CEO assholes robbed their dumb customers more than actual bank robbers. He broke one bottle in the sink and counted the roll of hundreds inside.

"Yeah, dis'll be plenty ta set me up."

A rumble caught his attention. On his phone screen was just one word: Unknown. With a groan, he answered, "Not interested."

A throaty chuckle responded, "I see the bail was accepted without question."

"Dat was you, Horn? Thanks, I owe ya. At least, I would owe ya if I wasn't on my way South."

"Slow yourself, Duke," the soothing accented voice said; the same voice that had sent him to grab those printers which put him in this very situation. Never got a face to go with the voice, but Duke imagined he was huge, like a rhino or a moose. Would match the fake name he used. "That was a gift for all your hard work and I wish you the safest of travels. Still, I feel I would be remiss not to offer you one last departing job to aid you on your new life."

Duke lost count of how many hundreds he held and growled. "Forget it, I got less dan an hour before dey start tailin' me. I'm done." He hanged up. While Horn had been a reliable source of income, his high and mighty attitude always rubbed Duke the wrong way. Felt good to say no. Duke stomped towards the bathroom only to trip. Rolling on his back, he found one last strip of film knotted around his ankle. "Terrific..." He began sawing with an old plastic knife when the phone rang again. "Ugh..."

"Come now, Duke, be reasonable. I do not wish to impede you from going South. I am simply requesting you take an item with you. Think of this final job like a postal delivery."

"Then buy a stamp!" Click.

Ring.

"Listen, Horn—"

"Triple."

Duke's grip on the dull utensil softened.

"In cash, as always. I'll even lend you a vehicle. One that shan't draw unwanted attention."

Duke's eyes drifted to the first movie frame hanging from his foot. It showed the mommy tiger embracing her new weasel son. The sky around them was angelic, perfect, fake. A big fat lie that was stuck on there tight. It could take all day to cut it off. Duke didn't have time to think it over. He had to leave now.

"When do I get paid?"

"On the other side, Duke. On the other side."

* * *

Judy couldn't stop fidgeting. Her ears flopped every minute. Her nibbling teeth threatened to chew through her lips. Her nose looked like it was about to twitch off her face.

"Carrots, calm down," Nick advised while waiting for the elderly sloth to finish crossing. The guy was about a third of the way across the lane. If Judy thought Flash was slow, this guy was practically a living statue!

"Calm down? You want me to calm down?" she twisted her seatbelt, "We've been chasing this gang for months with nothing to show for it! Every other thief involved has vanished before we could get to them! Our last and _only_ lead has a thirty minute head start! And we've been stuck at this stop sign for forty! How exactly can I calm down?!"

Nick raised his phone and pressed play.

"Away, away, in the deep dark wood..." sang the horribly off-key recorded voice of Judy.

The real Judy stared wide-eyed as Nick grabbed the microphone to the unmarked police cruiser's loudspeaker and held it threateningly close to the phone.

"Breathe. Count to ten."

She sucked in more oxygen than any other bunny in history and held the life giving gas tight.

"First comes one, Carro—"

"ONE!"

* * *

Duke was hating this. Granted, the car was great. Fresh coat of paint, new plates, the whole shebang. If he had any complaints, it was too big. With three rows of seats, the thing was basically a family mini-van, complete with fake honor roll bumper stickers. The ZPD won't look twice. He just knew at some point Horn was gonna bring this up like it was a huge favor. A new start meant owing nothing to nobody. The sooner he scrapped this the better.

The park bench waited for him on the corner. Just as Horn said, underneath the seat was the package. An ordinary wooden box, little bigger than an apple, sitting in the shade. If you weren't trying to look for it, you'd never see it. Same as the van.

He got out and crossed the street, passing a sluggish sloth that was blocking a sedan. The broad inside was shouting her fur off. He tried to sneak a peek at the show but the windows were tinted. Shame.

"Take yer time, Pops," Duke snickered. "Ya've lived dis long, enjoy it."

The sloth eventually gave him a gummy smile.

Duke grabbed the box and headed back.

"FIVE!" he heard a voice shout from in the sedan.

Duke smirked to himself. Counting never works. It only makes you lightheaded.

* * *

"Hopps, you're turning blue!"

"SIIIXXXXXxxxxxxx..." Then she passed out.

"Judy!"

Outside, neither saw their target climb into his van and drive away.

* * *

The trick was to drive safely and avoid the cameras. Only the major intersections had them which meant taking the backroads and alleys. That and actually following the speed limits added maybe 15 heart-pounding minutes to the drive but as he zoomed by the 'Now Leaving Zootopia Limits' sign, Duke let out the biggest whoop.

"So long, suckers! Haha!"

He set his phone to play his favorite song and turned on the cruise control. There was no stopping. This time tomorrow he'll be on the other side. He had everything he would ever need: clothes, food and cash. Nothing left to do except enjoy the ride and plan out his new life. With his skill set he imagined he'd be running the South in a month. They'd never seen a weasel like Duke before. Probably make him their Zootopia crime expert or something like that.

His foot absently scratched at his tied up ankle and interrupted his daydream. He gritted his teeth, the film was starting to chafe. Making sure the road was clear and straight, he brandished a claw and leaned down. He could only slowly work through one layer at a time but there always seemed to be another. Maybe he could quickly stop for scissors…

Duke froze. In his awkward leaning position, his ear was almost pressed to the small box on the passenger seat. It was in the corner of his vision. Surely, he must be seeing things.

"Did ya just move?" he asked the box.

HONK!

The weasel sat straight up! A semi-truck was barreling towards him!

"Christ! Shit!"

He wrenched the wheel, swerving the van back into the correct lane and against the side barrier. The stone divider scraped the van's side, tearing away the fresh paint with a painful screech. Duke slammed on the brakes, the entire vehicle felt like it would launch into the air as it came to a sudden halt.

Finally, silence.

BLAM!

The front right side dipped.

"Crap!"

Thankfully, Horn had included a spare tire in the trunk. Duke went to work. Every minute stuck here was a minute the ZPD could get closer. Duke prayed none of this was coming out of his pay. As he spun the jack, his mind kept picturing the little box in the car. In that sparse moment that he had gotten a good look at it he had found circles, tiny little pin prick circles carved into the thing.

He opened the passenger door and picked up the box. He held it close to his good eye. There were dozens of them all over the wood. Almost like the box was made of swiss cheese or something… Eh, who cares? He wasn't getting paid to think. He was getting paid to deliver.

"Fuck it," he concluded out loud.

"Bllubbt."

"AH!" Duke spun around, swinging the tire iron like a mad weasel. He hit nothing but air. "Who's dere?" he demanded.

"Plup pit."

All his fur stood on end as his ears swiveled toward the true source of the voice: the box in his paw. In his fear, his claws had partially unsheathed, cracking the box. Its integrity compromised, the container fell to splinters. Duke stared at the package he was supposed to take South.

"What the..."

"Fluck it!" gurgled the baby shrew.

* * *

Judy's head felt like a ton of bricks being crushed by three tons of cinderblocks buried under a pyramid of bulldozers. She forced her eyes open to find herself laying in the shade on a park bench, her head in her partner's lap

"Nick?"

"Hey, there you are," he pushed a water bottle to her lips. She gladly chugged it all, "Had me worried for a second. Remind me never to ask you to count ever again."

Judy finished the bottle and sat up, "Weaselton?"

"I sent Pennington and Wolfard, but… looks like he skipped town," he hung his head, "Sorry."

Judy groaned. There went their final lead. Technically, it was her fault too, she admitted to herself. If she had kept her cool, they might have nailed Duke. "Don't worry. We'll catch 'em some other way."

Her partner smiled, "That's the spirit. By the way, you might wanna check your phone. It was going off like crazy while you were out."

Judy pulled out her phone. Going off like crazy? She had missed fifty calls in the last hour! All from the same mammal. It had to be an emergency. Just as she about to dial, Nick's phone rang. She had a hunch who it was.

"Hello? Mrs.—What? What are you talking about? Judy's fine, she's right here."

The bunny grabbed his phone, "Fru Fru?"

"Judy!" the squeaky voice wailed to her, "It's li'l Judy! She's been kitnapped!"

END CHAPTER ONE

* * *

 _Ladies 'n Gentlemen 'n Furries alike... Welcome…_

 _Ya know who I am…_

 _Ya know what I do…_

 _Ya know at which size I prefer ta conduct said activity…_

 _Please, make yerself comfy, pour yerself a drink, and get used ta da new messed up way of talkin' `cause dere ain't no end in sight of all dis booze in fronta me._


	2. COUNTERFEIT

_A/N: Guess who's back! Back again! Bring it back! Bring it back! Bring it back! Bring it back! Bring it back!_

 _Cover art by WastedTimeEE! Shout it to the stars, baby!_

* * *

 **CA$H ONLY  
** _Chapter 2: ¢OUNT€RF€IT  
_ By: I Write Big

The aptly named Big Mansion stood at the edge of Tundratown. Not the warm edge near the Rainforest District but rather the far edge near the ice generators that kept this part of Zootopia frigid. The structure was more akin to a castle than a family dwelling, standing at the pinnacle of a fenced-off hill of ice. Great halls, thousand times taller than necessary for the shrew residents, mazed through the home in such intricate fashion that most guests easily became lost. At 1:51 pm that afternoon, a scream ripped through those halls, "No! Please don't ice me!"

Nomammal heard that cry as it was drowned out by a more powerful wail, "WHERE'S MY BABY?!"

It was now several hours later.

"Koslov ran me here, immediately. We found my baby girl cryin' over the empty crib with no trace of my granddaughter," Mr. Big explained. The ZPD were trying to keep their shivering to a minimum as they searched the baby's room. Judy watched the investigation from the doorway. Her foot thumped as her trained eye took in every minute detail, formulating theories and scenarios. She could already tell this was a clean kitnapping. No signs of forced entry or stolen valuables. Only thing amiss was the cracked window.

"They leave a ransom note?" Nick asked.

"Nothin'," Big said with a heavy sigh from his perch in Koslov's giant paws.

"Whoever did this will try to get in contact with you, sir," Judy stepped away from the crime scene and addressed the shrew, "We must ask, for the safety of your granddaughter, you don't take things into your own paws and cooperate with us."

Mr. Big solemnly shook his head, "I trust you and Nicky more than anymammal in the ZPD. If it were that simple, I would allow the two of you to handle this. But the truth is—"

"Daddy! Where's Fredo?" another giant polar bear entered with a distraught Fru Fru in its paws. The mother's eyes were bloodshot from crying. Probably why her polar bear needed those earplugs Judy guessed. "Don't you dare tell me you locked him in the basement!"

"Sweetie, I had to," Big tried to calm her, "Fredo is a good boy. He knows it's only business."

"Someone just kitnapped our child and your first reaction is to kitnap my husband?! What is wrong with you, daddy?!"

Nick and Judy exchanged looks.

Nick cleared his throat, "Sir, do you think your son-in-law is behind this?"

"Absolutely not!" Big stated firmly. He waved his paw like it was no big deal, "This is just insurance so that the Clawleones don't try and stir anything up."

"You're a monster!" roared Fru Fru and a new wave of tears poured. "Leave, dammit!" she shouted at her polar bear.

"Hmm?" the bear pulled out an earplug and raised an eyebrow.

"I said leave! Storm out like you're angry!"

The bear nodded, replugged his ear and took her out of the room. Fru Fru resumed her woeful wails.

* * *

Judy leaned back into her seat, letting the car heater warm her up. More unlucky officers from the Tundratown precinct were outside, combing the snow-covered yard. She tried to process what she had learned, "A peace baby?"

"Pretty much," Nick shrugged next to her.

"A baby born from the secret love between the children of the Big family and the Clawleone family? The biggest rival crime families in Zootopia?" Judy's voice hitched towards the end.

"Straight out of a fairytale."

"A baby whose very existence is keeping these families from shooting each other in the streets?"

"For now."

"...Both of those families are gonna turn this city upside down looking for that baby, aren't they?"

"Y'up."

Judy had no more questions. Nick handed her a blanket. As Judy wrapped herself tightly in the thick cotton, her mind trembled to think what an all out street war would do to Zootopia. They would have to find her goddaughter. Quick. It wouldn't be easy, though. Whoever was behind this clearly wanted violence and they were smart. Judy had the sinking feeling that she and Nick were dealing with a truly hardened criminal, who knew exactly what he was doing.

* * *

Duke had no idea what he was doing. A baby shrew was in his passenger seat, having finally fallen asleep after hours of incessantly gurgling its new favorite word, "Ffubt! Flcukd! Fuck it!" A baby shrew that, until those hours ago, was locked in a small wooden box. Why was that baby shrew in a box? Duke didn't care. He needed to get rid of it! He was starting fresh, which meant absolutely zero babies!

He had tried the closest daycare center, but not only did they want his ID and contact info, they also required a down payment! Those greedy bastards!

Next, he had searched for the nearest orphanage. They don't charge for babies, Duke had reasoned. Hell, they might even pay him. Orphanages need babies to stay in business. He'd be doing them a favor. It was better not to risk them asking questions, though. He planned on leaving the brat on the doorstep. Just like in the movies. Unfortunately, the Open Arms Orphanarium had burned down nearly a decade ago, leaving nothing but, ironically, the doorstep.

With the sun disappearing behind the horizon, Duke raced his car down the highway. He scanned each road sign for an answer. He would need to sleep. Today had been too exhausting. But he, a weasel, couldn't check into a motel with this baby, a shrew. That would catch attention and possibly tip off the coppers. This baby needed to go somewhere. Anywhere!

His eyes widened and a smile graced his lips as he read the next exit sign: 'Dump.'

* * *

The Skoll Canyon Landfill had the distinct honor of being the only landfill within half a day drive south of Zootopia, receiving most of its waste from the iconic city. It also accepts soil and cement, provided they are clean enough in accordance to the standards of the Quality Control Board. It was also home to one of the largest electromagnets in the tri-county area. The locals lovingly called the two-story machine 'Maggie.' Other than that, there was nothing remarkable about the Skoll Canyon Landfill. The place was quiet and low maintenance with a single 5,000 yard-long wire fence wrapped around its perimeter.

Duke hopped down from the fence, retrieved the sleeping shrew from his pocket and searched for the best place to abandon the tiny life sentence, grumbling all the way. "Da hell is Horn thinkin'? Stickin' me with a kid? 'Sure, Duke my boy, ya can most certainly take my car South. Just remember ta grab da kitnapping charges along da way.' Screw you, Horn. Triple ain't worth dis shit."

His ramblings came to a pause at the sight of a small security shack up ahead. The lights were still on. Perfect! Lying nearby, at the edge of a trash heap, was a plastic baby carrier! Even more perfect! Without making a sound, he deftly carried the baby accessory to the shack and placed the infant in it. The carrier was made for a much bigger mammal, probably a lion cub or something. The ½ inch shrew looked ridiculous but, hey, beggars can't be choosers.

Holding his breath, Duke tiptoed backwards. He kept his eyeballs trained on the sleeping shrew, praying to whoever was listening it would stay asleep.

Then… his ankle touched something. Duke stiffened and twirled around to come face to face with… himself!

Duke blinked.

The other Duke blinked a second later.

"What..." said one.

"...the..." continued the other.

"...fuck?" finished the first.

This other Duke was a spitting image of him. Same height, head, nose and everything. Except this Duke was wearing a greasy garbagemammal jumpsuit. The nightmarish idea that he had stumbled into an episode of 'The Twilight Zone' briefly wormed its way into his head.

"Uh… I was just…" he pathetically motioned towards the baby carrier, racking his brain for a believable lie.

As soon as the stranger spotted the child, though, he was suddenly overcome with excitement, "Oh! You're here for the tour!"

"Sure," Duke agreed before he could process what was said.

"Oh boy, this here's gonna be a hootenanny!" the garbagemammal did a little dance before throwing a tight arm around Duke's shoulder and walking him towards the shack. "I can't tell you how excited I am to be finally showin' some folks around. You know, I modeled the tour after the hayrides they used to give in Bunnyburrow back when I was a little ferret."

Now, that they were more in the shack's light, Duke could see that this mammal was in fact not a weasel but a ferret. He made out the subtle differences: browner fur, mask around the eyes. Funny how with a little darkness, the two of them were practically twins.

"Name's Travis Picklle. That's Picklle with 2 L's," he took out a rag that carried more grease than his jumpsuit, wiped his paws on it and shook Duke's with a bone-crushing grip. "I'm the night watch here at the proud Skoll Canyon Landfill, one of the few prestigious landfills to take care of Zootopia." Travis then leaned over the baby carrier, "And who's this little—" Travis stopped when he saw the shrew.

Duke backed up, seeking an exit, "Yeah… dat's not… mine..."

"Clearly," Travis whispered. Both of his paws landed on Duke's shoulders and held him in place. Duke nearly shit his pants. Somehow this guy had figured it all out! Travis' stare was so intense Duke felt like he was peering back at his own death. "I am shocked at how so few mammals adopt."

"...Huh?"

Travis' stare was replaced by a glowing, toothy smile, "It's a selfless undertakin' and I applaud you, sir, for giving a family to this youngin. One smaller than your thumb, no less."

"Right, adopted," Duke quickly agreed again, amazed at how lucky he must be to land such a sucker. If this idiot kept making his story up for him, he might get through this.

"So what'cha call the tyke?"

 _Crap!_

Duke scooped up the carrier, "Hey-y-y, come on, pal, let's not wake da bundle of joy. A growin' boy needs his rest."

"Boy? Could've sworn he was a girl."

"I said girl," Duke made a mental note to double check that, "and ya said somethin' about a tour?" Duke hated the thought of spending another second in this crapshoot but maybe he could slip away while the idiot was distracted.

Travis lit up with eagerness again. The ferret pulled a high-powered flashlight out of his pants and took a professional pose, "Ahem, welcome, one and all, to the Skoll Canyon Landfill After Hours Family Tour with amazin' sights for the children..." Travis reached into the shack and produced a clinking twelve pack, "...and _refreshments_ for the parents."

...Or maybe Duke could stick around for a bit.

* * *

Donny Clawleone was pissed. Not only was his baby niece missing, presumably being held up somewhere in that giant Big mansion, but his middle brother Fredo actually _was_ being held up somewhere in that giant Big mansion. On top of that, instead of doing the smart thing like breaking down the front doors and tearing that eyesore apart, his pops wanted everymammal to work with the Bigs. Now, Donny respected Pops, but the old shrew was going soft. The way he took the insults made his blood boil. So much so that Donny ran off to the nearest bar and picked a fight with the first mammal he saw. Things got a touch out of control and Donny was stuck with the clean up. So, here he was, looking over his usual dumping ground, ignoring the groans of the bleeding mouse in the trunk of his car.

"Consider yourself lucky, asshole," Donny grimaced down at the mountains of forgotten filth. A fitting grave. "You ain't gonna live to see the bloodbath in this city."

His musings were cut short by a thunderous earthquake. Some great obelisk struck Donny's car and launched the vehicle straight at him. A crushing blow was dealt to the shrew's spine that sent bolts of pain through his limbs as he tumbled down the hill of scrap. An abrupt stop knocked the wind from his lungs and Donny found himself staring back up the cliffside, blinded by a light. At the top, two shadowy figures stood.

"AH! I stubbed my toe on somethin'," groaned one.

"Mind your step. This here's where we keep the junk cars for the shorter mammals," warned the other. "We can carry several hundred of 'em at once with Maggie the Electromagnet up there."

Donny couldn't make out the strangers' faces but they seemed to be mid-size mammals. Maybe twenty times his height. He was going to give them a piece of his mind… once the feeling in his legs came back. Then a scent crossed his nose. A familiar scent. He followed the smell to a basket in the left one's paw. _'It couldn't be...'_

"Ugh, I hate rats."

Clack! A shadow blocked the blinding light and Donny recognized the silhouette of his car coming straight for him faster than he could move.

"Always gettin' in da way with their tiny bikes and tiny skateboards," the miniscule smash from whatever Duke had kicked into the pile wasn't satisfying and he took another swig from his bottle, "How can things so tiny be such a big problem?!"

Travis snickered, "Like what my old school buddy used to say, 'it's in their DNR.'"

"Don'tcha mean DNA?"

"That's what I said!" Travis shouted, going into a round of hoots. As unfunny as the ' _joke'_ was Duke ended up laughing along with him. The ferret was clingy, loud, and had an annoying way of talking but he gave Duke free beer and that made all the difference in the world. Speaking of which, his third bottle was empty.

He tossed it and grabbed another, swinging the baby carrier without care, "Jeez, Travis, whoever dis Gideon fella is, he don't sound dat smart."

"Yeah, he was a right jackass," Travis scratched his head, "but the two of us looked out for each other, you know. We was the family that neither of us had. I mean, I had a family but they kept to themselves." Travis' joyful demeanor took a more somber tone, "To be honest with ya, I thought I'd have a family of my own by now. As a child, I never thought I'd want li'l tykes bouncin' around. But the more days that pass..." The baby huffed and started making whining noises. Seems their ruckus was bothering the girl. Duke feared he would have to suffer through more gurgling until Travis reached a furry finger in and gently rubbed the shrew's cheek, "Hey, it's okay. We'll be quiet, don't worry. You sleep now. Your pa and I will keep ourselves to whispers." Miraculously, the infant who had tortured Duke with endless noise all day went back to slumberland.

Until then, Duke had long forgotten about the annoying band tied around his ankle. He felt uncomfortable watching Travis and picked at the film, again being reminded of that perfect image of the mother holding her new son.

Before he could stop himself Duke muttered, "Nobody wants a kit." Travis gave him a questioning grunt, signaling he hadn't quite heard him. Duke shook off the haze, "I said, nobody wants a kit… I'll sell her to you," he offered sincerely.

Travis smirked, "Good one, hehehe."

"Don't laugh, I'm serious," Duke took a deep gulp of his beer, "Everymammal at some point thinks ta themselves, 'My life sucks. Hey, ya know what'll fix dat? A baby.' Guess what, it don't. They eat ya food, give ya attitude, and cost ya almost every penny ya got. Babies are nothin' more than cryin', shittin' parasites." His ranting had turn to shouts. He jabbed a claw at the child, "I didn't want her. Some shithead I've never met dropped her in my stupid lap and now I'm stuck with her!"

The alcohol finally made its way to Duke's leg muscles and he fell over. He stared up at the stars from his bed of trash. Travis entered his vision. Rather than the disappointment, confusion or rage he expected, Duke heard empathy. "I can't pretend to know why her parents abandoned her, but the fact remains: they did, you didn't." Duke thought that bunny copper was unbearable, but this guy... "You could've easily done what they did and have her be someone else's problem—"

"Christ almighty, I kitnapped her! Abducted! Snatched!" He jumped back onto his feet and growled in Travis' face, "I ain't no saint lookin' after no kid! I'm da bad mammal in 'Taken!'"

Echoes of the confession tolled across the landfill.

Duke stared at Travis.

Travis stared at Duke.

Duke calmly picked up the baby carrier and whacked it across Travis' head.

* * *

Donny crawled out from under his car. Thanks to the pliable heap of Bugga Burger boxes he was standing in, the initial fall had buried him to his chin. While this was demeaning, it had kept him so low to the ground that his barreling car had barely grazed the top of his head. The frightful sight had unfortunately triggered his instincts and his body played dead for an unknown amount of time. When he came to, the first thing he noticed was that his trunk was empty. Crap. Then he witnessed one of the strangers up above attacking the other with the basket and run away. Moron dropped like a ton of bricks.

The scent was much stronger now. There was no mistaking it. He owed Pops and Big an apology.

* * *

' _So much for slipping away quietly,'_ Duke rolled his eyes as he fled through the pitch black night between the cavernous mountains of used tissues. Night vision always came in handy. He knew he needed to work on being more patient, but there's only so much damn optimism one mammal can take. When Travis woke up, he was no doubt gonna call the cops. Duke had managed the whole conversation without dropping his name, that'll buy him some miles. Screw getting rid of the kid. Horn wants this brat South, then she's going South and he's getting paid!

The revv of an engine was heard. However, it was so pathetic Duke was reminded of one of those RC race cars he never got for his birthday. Inches from his head, parked on the lip of a broken toilet was a rumbling sedan no bigger than a matchbox. At the wheel was a very angry shrew, "Fork over the baby."

Duke looked at the toilet, then at the white, crumbled, cottony paper all around them, "Dose ain't _nose_ tissues," he groaned.

Rubber peeled against porcelain and the ⅓ of a one horsepower engine fired the car into the weasel's nose. "Shit!" Duke cried as he tumbled back into the… _paper._ The windshield cracked and the ferocious rodent finished the job, leaping full body through the glass. Its claws were like tiny needles to Duke, but their scratches were like the worst papers cuts.

"Off! Get off!" Duke swiped his arm in attempt to push the shrew away. It only clung to his paw and started biting. "Fuck!" The shrew used its tiny form to its advantage and crawled all over Duke, inflicting cuts, bites, punches, scratches, kicks wherever it could. In their tumble, they knocked open a black case, revealing an almost brand new saxophone. Duke grabbed the instrument and swiped at his attacker… and missed. Instead, he conked his own head.

Duke, helpless and most likely suffering from a concussion, curled into a ball and yelped, "I give up! Please, I give!" The torture halted and Duke laid on his back, his head propped against the toilet.

The shrew spat on the ground and marched towards him, using Duke's chest as a walkway, "Normally, I wouldn't give two shits 'bout why a lowlife like you would be dumb enough to steal from the Big family."

Duke went cold. His eyes flashed towards the baby carrier nearby, "B-B-Big? Dat's—"

The shrew grabbed his scruff, "But Big would love to hear your excuse before he ices ya. Which means I only need you to be able to talk, _not walk_." He popped his neck in preparation of the fun limb breaking.

The toilet, ever so slowly, fell on its side. Without its solid base, the summit of used paper swayed like a tree in the wind. Both mammals looked up and held their breath.

The first sheet fell.

"Move!" ordered the shrew. Too scared to disobey, Duke scrambled to his feet and ran to get out of the paper canyon. "Basket!" the shrew dug his tiny needle claws into Duke's neck. The weasel grabbed the baby carrier and kept going. An avalanche of biblical proportion careened behind them. The edges of the disaster nipped at Duke's heels. In his night vision he could make out a second wall of paper already falling down directly ahead. They were gonna be sealed in! They'll never make it!

"Dive for it!" the shrew twisted Duke's fur, forcefully aiming Duke for the last narrow opening. Duke jumped. The soft, velvety crush of three metric tons of toilet paper slammed behind him!

They were through.

They were safe.

"Now… where were we?" chuckled the shrew.

On pure instinct, Duke did something he never thought he would. He threw the baby.

"Asshole!" the shrew let him go for half a second. It was all Duke needed. The weasel disappeared into the dump.

His legs carried him far, taking random turns, sticking to the smelliest of paths to throw off the shrew's nose. Finally, after sprinting for what could've been hours, Duke collapsed on a moldy mattress. As his breath caught up with him, so did his thoughts. He had stolen Big's kid. Horn had him steal Big's kid. What the hell?! He didn't wanna be a part of whatever Horn was planning! He just wanted triple! Well, screw Big, screw Horn and SCREW TRIPLE! All the cash he'd need was in the van!

Wherever that was…

It took time, but eventually Duke found a path he recognized and made his way back to the security shack. The lights were still shining. No sign of Travis. Maintaining caution, he snuck to the fence and climbed over. His feet hit the ground and, as if he had landed on a switch, the van's high-beams powered on. The engine howled to life.

The driver-side window slid down and the same angry shrew poked his head out, "Don't worry, buddy. I'm only gonna run over your legs." With a toothy smile he pushed a brick onto the gas pedal. Duke dodged. How he failed to dodge a tiny car but managed to get out of the way of family sized van, he didn't know. The van broke the fence and kept tearing the various trash like a bull in a china shop. It made a wide turn back towards Duke.

Duke had met a deer once. He made a passing joke about how his kind always end up getting paralyzed by the sight of cars in crosswalks. From his wallet, which Duke lifted, it was obvious the deer was a rich bastard who acted like he was better than everybody else, so he had it coming. Not until right then did Duke fully understand the sheer terror those poor deers experienced each time they crossed the street.

Donny gripped the steering column tight. He was gonna make weasel pancakes! A metal groan came from the van and the vehicle stopped. The wheels kept spinning, but they only kicked up dirt. Impossibly, the van lifted from the ground. With a heavy clang it stuck to a giant metal disk attached to a tall crane. The crane arm lifted the van past the name 'Maggie' spray painted into the crane's side until Donny was level with the control room.

Inside, operating the magnet, was the weasel's identical twin brother! Or was that a ferret? "As the licensed operator of this here beauty, I advise you to get out, sir, before you get hurt." Donny looked down. He was hanging over the gnashing teeth of a car compactor. Donny took the advice and dropped into the nearest pile of greasy pillows.

* * *

Travis tromped towards Duke with the baby carrier. The ferret was sporting a fresh black eye. Duke waited with a nervous smile. He would've been a hundred miles away from here by now, if his van wasn't still hanging thirty feet in the air. He asked, "So, uh, ya save my butt cuz ya forgive me or cuz ya wanted ta finish me off yourself?"

Travis didn't say anything and instead placed the baby carrier in front of Duke.

"Oh!" Duke gasped, "Dat hit gave ya amnesia! Ya still think she's my kid! Thank God!"

"I'm givin' you a chance to do the right thing," Travis then stood by his side and faced the dump. "That fightin' shrew is gonna come outta there soon and you're gonna give him back the baby and apologize."

Duke's eye twitched. "Ya nuts?!"

"Listen to me," he grabbed Duke's shoulders. "I see somethin' in you. You know what it is? Me. The me who was a bully in school. The me who was ordered around by an even bigger bully. The me who believed he could be nothin' but a dirty ferret." Duke had seen this passion before… in the eyes of a certain cottontail. "I'm here to show you you can be better! You will be better! You're not just a weasel!"

Maggie the Electromagnet shut off and dropped the van into the car compactor. The machine's teeth ground up the metal, easily spilling the oil and popping the tires.

"My cash!" screamed Duke as his life savings were consumed.

"Hey, Weasel!" shouted Donny's distant voice from the control room. "Better start hoofin' it. I'mma getcha." He dragged a claw across his own throat.

Every buck from every job Duke had ever pulled off... gone. Years of legitimate illegal work... shredded.

He had no cash.

He had nothing.

A single still intact bottle of Phull Muun rolled across the dirt and bumped into the baby carrier. The baby gurgled.

Travis cleared his throat, "'Kay, that did not go the way I—" Duke whacked him across the head with the baby carrier, grabbed the beer, and ran into the night with both.

END CHAPTER TWO

 _That saxophone seemed pretty random, huh? What was the point of pointing out an almost brand new saxophone in a dump? It's almost like it's a reference to another fic I wrote or something… Hmm… Nope, I don't get it, guys. I just don't get it._


	3. NICKELS AND DIMES AND PICKLLES

_A/N: Would you believe me if I told you this was the true story of how I met my little sister?... because it's not._

 _But seriously, if you want to check out the cover art in finer detail, then check out WastedTimeEE's deviantart page!_

* * *

 **CA$H ONLY  
** _Chapter 3: NICKLE$ and DIME$ and PICKLLE$  
_ By _:_ I Write Big

What separate law enforcement from vigilantes are procedure and accountability. For every trigger pulled a single-spaced form must be filled out by the officer. Not only did Zootopia's finest have to carry out the law, they had to obey it. Which meant respecting the authority of those above them. Judy respected Bogo. He was a tough but fair boss who played mean so as to maintain order. He viewed the cases with a clear conscious and made the calls he felt were right.

"You can't be part of the Big kitnapping investigation, Hopps," he had told her after she turned in her initial findings. "Both you and Wilde are fine officers but you're also too close to this case. Emotions cloud judgement and you're too green for me to trust you to not let that happen."

Her breath had caught in her throat and her focus locked on all the clues she had gathered from only one day of work on the desk.

A massive paw comforted her shoulder, "We'll find your goddaughter. Don't worry." Bogo waited for Judy to give some kind acknowledgement, but the bunny didn't move. Her no doubt crippling distress hidden behind those drooping ears. The job never got easier. He held back his heavy sigh and marched back to his office, making sure to never betray the storm of regret. It had to be done.

Nick waited for the Chief to go around the corner before he said, "Think he bought it."

"Good," Judy immediately snapped out of her melancholy and grabbed the car keys. "Let's move."

Judy respected Bogo. Which was why she wasn't going to disrespect him by lying to his face. That was Nick's schtick.

Overnight, the ZPD had been flooded with tips on the whereabouts of Judy Clawleone Big. Most were from clearly deranged lonely mammals looking for attention. Others were from sane citizens thinking they could get a reward from the notorious Big family. None had claimed to be the actual kitnapper. This was disheartening for every mammal involved. Surely, the kitnapper wanted to make their demands known.

So why hadn't they called?

This was the question Judy and Nick hoped to answer. To keep Bogo off their backs, the two had to keep their movements within believable proximity of the warehouses the printers were stolen from. This put them at the outer edges of the city which was lucky. Judy's working theory was the kitnapper wasn't holding li'l Judy in the city. The plan was to follow up on any tips pointing to the edge of the city limits. So far they had been led to an abandoned public pool, a diner called the R&R which served the most damn good coffee Nick had ever drank and a crazy homeless horse who claimed to be li'l Judy all grown up.

"This might not be the most efficient use of our time, Carrots," Nick sipped from his travel mug of R&R homebrew as he checked off the latest dead end. "We should call it a day before Bogo catches on." When his partner didn't respond, he sighed and took on a more softer tone, "I know you consider li'l Judy family—"

"She is family," Judy's paws clenched the wheel. She had always tried to stay optimistic, but all these wild goose chases were starting to wear on her. A quick moment to take a breath was all she needed to bring back her smile, "And, technically, that sorta makes her your family too."

Nick raised a playful eyebrow, "You proposing, Fluff?"

She pretended to consider the option, leaning back and forth as if weighing the pros and cons. Since she had kissed him the night of li'l Judy's christening, the two had been going steady. These little moments where they could enjoy each other's company had become some of her most cherished. However, it always seemed work got in the way. The job they did was important and Nick seemed happy but... Judy had never been in a serious relationship before.

That kiss had not only been Judy's _first_ kiss, to her utter shame, but it was also their _only_ kiss. She had done it in a spur of the moment and never regretted the gut decision. However, she found only flirting was easy; words were her sword. Everything else was terrifying unknown territory. Despite Nick's teasing about bunnies being overly emotional, all her teenage years were dedicated to her career instead of figuring out the opposite sex. What did they like? Beer, sports and… _lingerie…_ That was her list so far. How fast was too fast? They haven't even held paws in public yet! Do guys care what she wore? Those teen magazines she never read think so. Simply put, she worried she might not be romantic enough for the smooth talking fox.

Before she could throw in a clever comeback, she spied the next destination. "One more," she flipped the turn signal as they approached the sign labeled 'Dump.'

"Cheese and crackers," Judy gawked. She couldn't tell where the destruction ended or where the trash began. The fence looked like it had been chewed up and spat out. Garbage was sprawled on the edges of deep tire marks that scarred the grounds.

"Clean up oughta be easy. The dump's right here," Nick joked as they stepped around a broken taillight.

All of this was fresh, hours old, Judy could tell. She grinned as she noticed her foot had started to thump. That only happened when they were onto something. She eagerly knocked on the security shack. The clatter of empty glass bottles sounded from inside followed by the groan of the door swinging open.

Nick spat out his coffee, "Duke?"

"Who?" the double-blackeyed ferret yawned.

Judy squinted her eyes, "...Travis?"

"Judy?" Travis gasped, suddenly awake.

"Travis?" Nick clarified.

"Judy!" Travis exclaimed in joy.

"You?" Judy couldn't believe who it was.

"Friend?" questioned Nick.

"Eh," shrugged Judy.

"Yeah," Travis chuckled at the fond school memories.

"Troubles?" Judy pointed a thumb at the mess behind her.

Travis nodded, "Shrew."

"Shrew?!" Judy nearly jumped. Could the Clawleones be involved?

"Kitnapper?" Nick's ears perked and he pulled out his notepad.

"Naw," Travis shook his head.

"Others," Judy suggested, eager to hear how many they were dealing with.

Travis plainly answered, "One."

"One?" Judy raised an eyebrow at the damage _one_ mammal caused.

"Description?" pushed Nick.

Travis thought then pointed at his own chest, "Me."

"Ferret," Nick assumed.

"Weasel," Travis corrected.

Silence.

* * *

Duke jolted awake. He could've sworn he heard someone screaming his name in the distance. He could've sworn even harder the voice sounded like that crazy cottontail copper. The weasel spun around but those floppy ears of doom were nowhere to be seen. Only endless tall grass and the occasional tree. His pulse slowed to a calm as he regained his senses and he subconsciously scratched at his film anklet.

Last night was a nightmare. Death had come dangerously close before. Now, though, Death had a face and was chasing him like a demon. With no light, save the stars and the moon, every snapping twig was an angry shrew, every cricket chirp was the cocking of a gun. Duke had ran non-stop, clinging to the baby carrier until the sun came up and he collapsed from exhaustion. Thankfully, the crazy shrew hadn't found him in his sleep.

Duke rolled over and bumped into the last bottle of Phull Muun. Inside was the final wad of his cash. How much? He had no clue. Could be hundreds. Could be two bucks. Breaking it open now would leave a trail so instead he stuck the mystery bottle in his pocket.

A grumble came from the baby carrier. Duke stuck his nose close to the slumbering last source of potential cash he had left. What exactly could he do with her? Horn said he'd pay triple… Then again, Big had no limit to his wealth. He could ask for anything. Maybe even _double_ triple! He just had to get in contact.

"WAAAAHHH!"

Duke snapped back and covered his ears. The ½ inch ball of horror's cries pierced the heavens. Never had he known such pain. Nails on chalkboards were lullabies compared to this. Using his toe, Duke shut the carrier's hood. The slight dampening was welcome relief to his eardrums.

"Christ almighty!" he shouted. Strangely, he didn't hear his own shout. There was only a light ringing. "Fuck! I've gone deaf!"

An unknown amount of time later, Duke was aimlessly trudging through the brush with the carrier hanging from his shoulder. There were no roads to be seen and his phone was dead so he couldn't even use the compass. He had to rely on the sun's position. Good thing the sun always rose in the East. Or was it the West? Crap... Before setting off into the great unknown, Duke had gotten a good whiff of himself and gagged. The lingering dump stench was horrendous. A feeble bath in a tiny stream nearby helped but he'd need a real shower. By that point, his hearing had returned and the baby had stopped her whining and gone back to sleep. That didn't mean she wouldn't start up again.

" _GROAN…"_ went his belly.

And to make matters worse, he was starving. "Ugh, why does kitnapping have ta be so hard?" Duke demanded of the sky. The sky responded with a wisp of wind that carried the scent of fresh burgers. Duke drooled as he followed the intoxicating aroma to a thick line of trees. Just on the other side was a curious sight.

A paw-carved sign marked this place as 'Pickle Park of Podunk.' Duke muttered, "Podunk? How da hell did I go from one trash heap to another?" A single playground stood in the distant center of a green field. Closer to the sign was a congregation of various mammals gathered around a great wooden gazebo. A huge 'welcome' banner was strung across the party. At least, Duke assumed it was a party. Way too big to be a picnic, but too small to be a faire.

"Well hey there, Travis! Been a while!" welcomed a squeaky voice.

Duke looked down. In his hunger, his legs had carried him towards the smell of food without him noticing. He was directly below the welcome banner in front of a table manned by a single gerbil who obviously thought he knew him.

"Uh..."

The gerbil laughed, "Actually got the day off for the Pickle, Picklle, Pikel Family Reunion, huh? That's great! Probably should've stopped for a shower, you still kinda smell like work." The rodent made a note on what appeared to be a guest list and then slid a marker and a blank nametag to him. "You're just in time. We were about to start lunch."

Duke stared at the blank sticker. All the mammals around the gazebo wore one. More importantly, they were eating food. FOR FREE! He uncapped the marker, put down 'Travis' and slapped on the pseudonym.

"Wouldya look at that." The gerbil leaned over the table and smiled, "What about your little one?"

Hungry 'Travis' mistook the nosy fella's pointing finger to be aiming at the Phull Muun bottle poking out of his pants. "What, ya mean my cash?" he asked.

The gerbil quirked his head, "Cash? Quite the unique name. That short for Cassandra?"

Only then did Duke realize the gerbil meant the baby shrew. "Uh yeah!" He scrawled 'CASH' in big blockly letters and slapped it on the carrier. "That's her name. My precious Cash… Picklle! Cash 'Cassandra' Picklle! And I'm Travis Picklle with 2 L's. Where's da food?" He pushed passed the table and dove into the crowd. Through elephant legs he slithered and over muskrat heads he jumped until he found the source. Nothing could've been more beautiful. Piping hot, greasy burgers stacked in a pyramid surrounded by a moat of pickle jars. Duke felt more wolf than weasel as he scarfed down three whole patties. He could feel the early signs of a food coma taking hold.

"D'aww!"

Duke stiffened. He knew that coo. He knew that sickening coo well. It was the God awful coo broads made when they saw a cute baby! He snapped around to find a swarm of females surrounding the carrier. They were fawning, making kissy faces, and _raising cameras!_

Duke leaped in front of the lenses, "Ladies, please, my li'l girl don't do well with flashes."

" _You're_ her father?" questioned a squirrel.

A deer gasped, "He adopted! How sweet!"

"And he's single," purred a lioness.

"Not lookin' ta mingle, sista'," he hid his ringless paw behind his back and closed the carrier's hood. "Now, if you'll put da cameras away, my legally adopted daughter, who I love very much, needs some sleep."

"WAAAAAHH!" the cretin shrieked as if to make him look like a liar.

"Sleep? Babushka hungry," a towering, slender cow with graying spots and a husky accent parted the gaggle and fixed Duke with her hard blue eyes. "You feed, yes?" Duke had faced many broads he would consider scary but this one… there was something about the way this one carried herself that told the weasel that if he said the wrong word, she'd tear out his tongue.

"Sure, I mean, 'course, I mean, a dad's gotta take care of his kid, am I right?" The cold bovine said nothing. Duke realized with dread that she was waiting for him to feed the shrew. His forced smile started to crack as he slowly reached for another burger.

A beefy paw swiped the paddy out of his grasp, "Nyet." She picked up the carrier in one arm, Duke in the other and took them away.

Duke was plopped on a wooden bench and the wailing baby shrew was forced into his hold. He could feel the ear ringing come back full force.

"Hold child," the broad ordered.

From a purse he hadn't noticed before she produced a glass bottle labeled 'Pikel Milk'. She poured a couple drops into what looked like a thimble with a nib on top. She gave the thimble to Duke.

"Feed."

Still worried she was gonna rip him apart with those thick, sinewy arms of hers, he held the thimble to the baby. The shrew ignored the food and kept trying to break the sound barrier.

"Tilt head up."

Duke obeyed. Within seconds, the shrew latched onto the nib and suckled. The rush of accomplishment and newfound knowledge washed over Duke. It seemed so obvious. The baby couldn't cry if there was food in her mouth.

He gaped, "Holy shit..." The cow cuffed the back of his head. "Ah! The fuck—"

"Watch language!" the cow scolded. "Babushka learn words from parents. Must teach proper." Duke wanted to tell her off but her intimidating presence kept his trap shut. It wouldn't surprise him if this old broad was the great-grandmother of that Chief Buffalo Butt.

"You new father," she stated.

A flare of anger shook Duke and the film around his ankle tightened, "Whatya talkin' 'bout? 'Course I knew him! You think cuz I'mma weasel—" Duke choked as he remembered Travis was supposed to be a ferret. "I mean, cuz I'mma..." He stopped as the cow's knowing smile told him the jig was up. Her stone-hard glare softened and she placed a beefy arm on his shoulder.

"I understand. Stay, please. You not Picklle but you are welcome." Duke stared back at the broad, hoping against hope this wasn't a trick. "I do not ask you knew father. I _see_ you _are_ new father." The abrupt kindness she showed... It was like seeing a wildfire bent on consuming the forest die down to a candle wanting only to help him read a story at night. "You do not know how to raise child. Yourself like child."

"It's not like dere's instructions," Duke grumbled, feeling it was finally safe to talk back.

"Wrong. Many books."

"Oh, ya mean dose overpriced 'how not ta drop a baby' novels?" he spat back. "Dose scams are bigger than dictionaries! Babies already cost an arm and a leg. I don't need no fifty buck book ta tell me babies only do three things: eat, sleep and cry!" He sniffed the air, "And crap." That earned him another cuff to the head. Thoroughly pissed off, Duke excused himself. Before he could get far, the Pikel Milk bottle was shoved back into his paw. Duke grumbled and dropped the free baby silencer into the carrier.

With no judging cows looking over his shoulder, Duke peeled off the rancid used diaper. The thing was tinier than a postage stamp. It waved like flag in a gentle gust he couldn't even feel. A weird theory popped into his head and held the diaper up in the air. As soon as he felt a slight wind, he let go. The breeze easily carried the mini biohazard to parts unknown. Until the air currents changed and plopped the diaper on a burger just as an elephant took a big bite. Duke almost hurled.

He then unsheathed a claw and sliced out a strip from his wifebeater. With a few quick knots he had a fresh shit basket. "Now Cash, your name is Cash now by da way, you're probably used ta gettin' powders and high-end wipes and stuff. Unfortunately, due to a tonna bull, I ain't droppin' nothin' fancy on ya. Only junk I can swipe or junk I can make." He slipped the MacGyvered diaper on Cash and held her up. "As my ma used ta say, ask me again _after_ I get paid."

"Fuck it!" Cash gurgled and smiled.

Duke frowned, "Ya laughin' at me?" She reached past the weasel who followed her paw to the gazebo. Hidden in the crowd were tables covered with dioramas of farms, maps of the country around them and hundreds of family photos. The pictures ranged from recent to clearly ancient black and white with crinkled edges. They told the history of how three different families with oddly similar names joined together to found Podunk and how over the generations the three tribes had stood by each other's sides through thick and thin.

And Duke didn't care.

"Ugh, never fall for museums, kid. They're a buncha tax scams for da rich." He shouldered the baby carrier and looked around. With both their stomachs full, what he needed next was a way to charge his phone so he could make the ransom call. Trees sure as hell ain't got plugs. He eyed the warm, caring mammals. Maybe one of these suckers could help out old Travis Picklle. After all, what's family for?

* * *

To a shrew, tall grass is more like a great untamed jungle. With nothing to stand on that reached above the grassy canopy, Donny had to rely completely on his nose for navigation. It wasn't that easy. Despite shrews having some Grade A sniffers, Donny had let the weasel get too far ahead. He had lost his wheels so he could only chase on his stubby legs. What he wouldn't give to have one of Big's polar bears. On top of that, his phone had gotten cracked in the scuffle. The screen wouldn't recognize his finger and the damn Furi AI could never recognize his voice. He had no way of letting pops know he had found his niece and to get his boys to back him up. Donny was gonna have to do this Lone Shrew style.

Eventually, the showdown at the dump caught up to him and Donny had collapsed. He woke when the sun was high and baking. He dove under a thick patch and tried to cool off in the shade. A few minutes later, he noticed something wrong. His nose twitched. There was something missing. The weasel's scent was gone!

Donny roared and tore up the grass around him. How had he let that nobody, lower than dirt weasel get away?! He's Donny Fucking Clawleone! Nomammal got away from him! He saw red and charged in a random direction, his anger driving him blind. It didn't end until his foot caught on a stray root and he tumbled to the dirt. The painful skid put an end to his rage. He took a deep breath like his therapist had instructed. It helped a little. His mind clearer, he decided it was best to find a phone first, then worry about tracking li'l Judy. He looked up and saw he laid at the foot of the first wooden sign of civilization for miles.

"Podunk?"

* * *

Seems being a Picklle had its perks. Not only did Duke immediately get a charging bank handed to him from the first mammal he asked, the meerkat had also offered him a ride to the Pickle, Pikel, Picklle Reunion After-Party. "Always willing to help out a fellow Pikel," he had said with a smile. Duke didn't know if the Picklle he was pretending to be was from the same family but the sucker didn't seem to care.

The battery bar was slowly filling. There was already enough juice to make a call. Duke eagerly opened the dial pad, practicing in his head the menacing speech about how Big would never see his precious granddaughter again only to realize he was missing a crucial detail...

He had no idea what was Big's number.

An online search turned up the Big limousine company. He figured it was better than nothing. "Tundratown Limo Service, it's the ride you can't refuse. Were you interested in our Sleeping with the Fishes package?" answered a bored voice.

"Uh, hi, I was hopin' I could talk ta your boss."

"I'm sorry, sir, the manager is unavailable at the moment. Can I take a message?"

"No, not your manager. I mean…" he made sure no Pickles, Pikels or Picklles were listening and hunched over the phone. "I wanna talk ta da real guy in charge. You know, da _Big_ guy."

"Mr. Big isn't here, sir. He's taking a leave of absence for a family matter."

Duke grinned, "Right! Exactly! Dat's what I'm callin' 'bout. Let's just say he's been expectin' ta hear from me." He poured on the confidence.

"Are you saying you're the kitnapper, sir?" the voice asked in the same bored tone.

"Maybe."

There was no response.

"Hello?"

"I'm still here, sir. I'm just writing down the unprivatized phone number you're calling from."

Duke hanged up.

The world swirled around him. That was a joke, right? It had to be a joke! The asshole sounded like they couldn't care about anything even if their house was burning to the ground in front of them! Then again, Caller ID did exist! There was a chance that Big and therefore the ZPD now had his number and could track its last known call and come straight to Podunk! Or was that crazy NCIS: ZPD TV shit?

Just to be safe, Duke decided it was best to get out of town. Just in case. He grabbed the baby carrier and looked for the nearest opening in the treeline. If he was quiet enough, he could get outta here without returning the charger.

A familiar rodent's head poked into his vision, "Hey Travis!" the gerbil said, "Get off your phone. Mama Pikel is gonna say something." A mob of Picklles, Pickles, and Pikels charged the gazebo, pushing the weasel towards the center. There, on a small stage, stood the grumpy, graying cow from earlier. The three families surrounded her on all sides, showering her with undying attention. Duke was at the uncomfortable front row.

The cow, or Mama Pikel, waited for the mammals to quiet down. She started solemnly, "Over zhree hundred years, family grows strong. Roots deep as oak in wild. We aid family. Protect family. Love family."

"Family!" chanted everyone.

"Suddenly gettin' cult vibes here. Is dis a cult?" Duke whispered to the gerbil.

"What? No," the gerbil gave him an odd look but was quickly swept up again by the chant. Duke noticed how motherly the cow watched over them all. In half a second, that care vanished.

"Zis is lie!" she proclaimed. That gentle candle had grown back to an unstoppable wildfire. "Not one Pickle live in Podunk. Not one Picklle. Only one Pikel. Only I remain! You write me. You come here every year. Not because family. Because _recipe_." Duke thought the dozens of mammals were silent before. Now, it was like they had been replaced with tombstones. Mama Pikel continued, "Zis what you care about! Greed! Lies! Money!" She quelled her disgust and put on an amused smirk, "Fine… I give recipe." At the word, everymammal took a simultaneous step forward. Duke saw hunger in their faces. Mama Pikel was astonished, "You zink I have? Ha! I give already."

The crowd faltered in their advances. "To who?" demanded somemammal.

Mama Pikel let out a throaty cheer as if the very question affirmed the contempt she was showing to the once loved ones, "To one not in family!"

Duke's ears folded back.

"The hell does that mean?" the squirrel from earlier yelled.

Duke's throat went dry.

"Ramsay's sister married into the family. She's not a Pickle!" the deer accused the lioness.

The feline growled back, "Oh yeah? Well, you're mom's a horse!"

The clink of the glass bottle in Duke's baby carrier resounded louder than a jet and he instinctively grabbed at it. His movement didn't go unnoticed. The gerbil stared at his reaching arm and then back up at him. As the Pickles, Picklles and Pikels devolved into chaos, Duke tried to casually walk out.

The gerbil stepped in his way, "Hold up, Travis. Which family are you from again?"

Duke gulped, "Look, I don't know what dis recipe is and I don't care! I only lied for the free food! Here, take it!" He held out the milk bottle for the gerbil.

The gerbil blinked at the bottle before smacking it out of his paw. "Hey!" the gerbil squeaked to the crowd, "This guy ain't in any of the families! He's gotta have the recipe on him somewhere!"

Duke started running long before the gerbil finished. He scooped up the milk bottle and pushed through the masses. Thankfully, most were too confused or too deep in their own arguments to take notice of him. As he reached the edge, he could feel the following eyes and accusatory glares. The gerbil's claims were being heard. A few paws reached towards him but he squirmed past and finally broke free of the crowd.

With no destination in mind, Duke went through the treeline and found himself in a parking lot. Several cars were his size but there wasn't any time to hotwire. The angry voices were growing closer.

Over those voices came the distinct toot of a train whistle. About a hundred yards ahead were a set of railroad tracks. He didn't need wheels after all! Duke booked it straight ahead just as the Pickle, Picklle, Pikel stampede charged out of the park. Thunderous footfalls chased him but he maintained the lead. The train was still coming.

The squeal of rubber turned Duke's head just in time to see one of the parked cars speeding right for him. "Shit!" Duke hopped on another car's trunk. A wombat hit a button on their key fob and the trunk popped open, launching Duke and Cash. His waving paws caught something metallic and he clung hard. Opening his eyes, he found the chasing mob to be much smaller than before. Oh wait… he was just really high up. REALLY high up. He was three quarters of the way up a wooden telephone pole.

The entirety of the park population was now gathered around the pole. Some smaller mammals were climbing. "Da hell is wrong with ya mammals?!" Duke cried. "What's so special 'bout dis shit anyway?!"

The pole shook. Duke grabbed both the pole and the baby carrier. Was that an earthquake? The pole shook again. He looked down. An elephant was repeatedly ramming the base like a hoofball player. "Ya mammals are insane! Help!" he screamed towards the distant buildings of Podunk.

CRACK!

The gut wrenching sensation of gravity made itself known as the pole fell over like a tree. Halfway down, the wires pulled taut, leaving the once perpendicular pole at a 45 degree angle. Perfect incline for running at a weasel.

"Fuck!" screamed Duke.

As the Pickles, Picklles and Pikels clambered onto the pole, the train started loudly passing. Duke watched it and a crazy plan formed. It was stupid! It was idiotic! It was his only choice! Balancing on his feet, he faced the high end of the pole and sprinted.

"Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!" he blubbered with every step until he finally jumped!

The only sound Duke heard was his own heartbeat as he flew through the air. Treetops skimmed his toes. He shut his eyes and waited for what felt like far longer than it should've taken. He considered the idea that he had already died from the suicidal leap and endlessly falling was what being dead felt like. That would suck. Would also explain the whole flying up to heaven claims mammals who come back keep spewing. But he wasn't rising, he was falling… Crap… Duke concluded he was going to the other place.

BAM!

His feet hit solid metal and Duke tumbled, the baby carrier hugged against his chest. Whipping wind made it hard for him to see, but he could tell he had made it! He was on top of the last train car!

"HAHAAHAA! So long, suckers!" he cheered. He got a good look at the families' stunned faces just before the telephone wires snapped and the pole crashed behind the trees. They and Podunk soon disappeared into the distance. He smirked in triumph and checked on the shrew. She was asleep. "Seriously, Cash," Duke rolled his eyes as he climbed down the service ladder, "All dis snoozin' ya do. It ain't healthy."

He missed the sign that would've informed him that the next town on the train's route was Bunnyburrow.

* * *

A stone's throw past the border sat a sleepy town. All day the sun burned and the wind howled against dirty windows lining its one craggly street. Despite the municipality's proximity to the crossing, the place had an average of twelve tourists a year. These twelve usually came by accident and turned back when they realized their mistake. What was this town's name? Horn didn't care. To Horn, this was 'the spot.' An impossible combination of unknown and easy to find. Hidden in plain sight. You'd never know anymammal was there unless you were looking, which was why it was the spot where Duke was supposed to make the drop off today. Horn's most trusted mammals were there, waiting for his arrival.

Horn sat in his office enjoying the refreshing desk fan blowing against his fur. Today had been a quiet one. The printers were running smoothly and his new favorite tech mammal took the bribe without a single question. Yes, the prep stages were coming along nicely.

His desk phone rang. Putting down his half-finished Phull Muun, he picked up the receiver, put it to his ear and waited.

"The weasel didn't show."

Horn turned to his office TV which was tuned to ZNN. Headlines about the ongoing search for missing Li'l Judy Clawleone Big painted the screen. The corners of Horn's lips tugged upwards until his lucky golden fang was gleaming in the TV's reflection. He said one word and then hanged up.

"Good."

END CHAPTER THREE

 _Readers, you could solve it right now. I've given you so many clues._


	4. SUPPLY & DEMANDS

_A/N: I swear, every chapter is like me arguing with myself on whether or not I should have kids. PS - I need to dedicate some serious imagination to a script for Nickelodeon, so I may not update for a bit._

 **CA$H ONLY  
** _Chapter 4: $upply & Demand$_  
By: I Write Big

"Sorry, Short-Stuff," the waitress shrugged. "Phone lines are down. For the whole town somehow. You can use mine, if it's an emergency."

"Naw, don't worry 'bout it, toots." Donny watched the repair-rhino try to work the diner's payphone. To be honest, he had only come in to see if the place really did have one of those ancient machines like the sign outside claimed. The last one he had used was at some airport when he was a junior shrew. Back then, playing with shiny numbered buttons was fun according to his underage brain. Mostly because, without a quarter, the call wouldn't go through. That was the day young Donny learned you didn't need to pay to call the cops on a payphone.

"911, what's your emergency?" the operator on the other line had asked.

The shock of hearing another mammal was overtaken by a sudden sense that he had done something wrong. Pops had taught him to only bother the cops if it was a real emergency. Only squealers talked to cops without reason. Young Donny didn't know what a squealer was but he sure as hell didn't wanna be one. So, young Donny said nothing.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" the operator pressed. There was concern in their voice. "My computer's showing that you're calling from the international terminal of ZAX. Is that correct?"

Don't be a squealer Donny.

"I understand if it's too dangerous to talk, but you have to give me a sign. Do you need help?"

Don't be a squealer Donny.

"Donny?"

"GAH!" Donny screamed. His scarer was just his middle brother Fredo, munching on a pretzel.

"Understood, ma'am, help is on the way," informed the operator. Donny slammed the phone on the hook.

Fredo didn't seem to be worried by his brother's cry and tugged on his sleeve, "Come on, Donny. Pops says we're leaving."

He allowed himself to be dragged back to the baggage claim where his parents were loading up the cart. As they wheeled towards the exit, several dozen cops rushed through the doors and up the escalator to the part of the airport they had left behind. Donny was amazed by both the amount and speed they had came but tried not to show it.

His pops shook his head with a growl, "Somebody musta squealed."

Donny decided that was enough reminiscing and stepped out. He ran a thumb over the unresponsive cracked screen in his pocket. There was a phone store on the next block. He'd been meaning to upgrade.

* * *

"Fuck it," giggled Cash.

"Shut it," instructed Duke.

"Fuck it!" Cash let out a cheer, splaying her tiny paws in the air.

"Shut it!"

"FUCK IT!"

"Christ almighty! How am I supposed ta get ya around quietly if ya keep talkin' dirty?" Duke vented his frustrations while punching the train car walls. The train was one of those freight variety made up of nothing but steel block cars filled with random boxes. Duke had helped himself to a can of beans from one of the many crates. Cash, the little rascal, found his anger to be more hilarious than any Saturday morning cartoon. Duke groaned, this was getting him nowhere. Maybe what he needed to do was lay on the reverse psychology. "Fine, ya know what, say it. I don't care." He sat, letting his legs dangle off the edge of the open door. The passing ground barreled just beyond his toes. The damn flick knotted around his ankle whipped in the wind. He pretended to be interested in the boring blurry shrubbery. "Ya wanna talk like Duke? Knock yourself out. Talk like Duke."

At last, the brat didn't respond. Duke let out a silent breath of relief and ate a spoonful of beans.

"Doo..."

His jaw clenched. The baby shrew continued trying to form the new word.

"Doo… Doo...Duk—"

"I swear," Duke pointed his spoon in her face, "if ya say my name in a cute, adorable way, I will jump off dis train."

The baby only gave a blank, curious look and gurgled.

The weasel sighed. This whole thing had gotten way out of paw. All he had to do was drive South. That's it! In less than two days he had lost his free van, watched almost all his cash get shredded, picked up an angry shrew out for his blood, and then got chased out of Podunk by these crazy condiment families for some recipe. A recipe he supposedly had. No matter how hard he searched, though, he couldn't find a scrap of how to cook anything on him. Oh well, at least he got free baby supplies out of it. And a phone charger! Normally, he would lazily surf his feed to pass the time except there was nothing online but reminders of his kitnapping charges. No mammal seemed to be pointing fingers at him yet. That was good, at least.

Problem was he had no way of making his demands anonymously. Maybe there was an app that could scramble his number or something. As he searched, the train grinded to a halt. A distant puff of steam announced the engine was cooling down. Duke's eyes went wide.

"Oh no..."

Right in front of him was a sign outlined in a sickening pink. Across the wood were the haunting words: 'Welcome to Bunnyburrow!' Underneath, just to hammer it in, was a cartoonish carrot and a live population counter. Over 90 million cottontails! And it was still going up!

"HEY!" Duke screeched at the front car. "Get dis bucket of bolts movin'! Don't ya dare stop here!" He shuddered as he realized the sign itself was in the shape of giant bunny head. "Kick it inta high gear and let's go already!"

"No," called back a distant voice.

Duke facepalmed. _'Great, da conductor's a smartass.'_

"Fuck it!" giggled Cash.

* * *

Duke's feet dragged through the loose dirt road. This run-down, hick-filled, rickety-ass town couldn't even afford pavement. What a joke! The baby carrier's hood was pulled shut. His face may not be broadcasted on every mammal's screen, but Cash's sure was. He spied the headlines on the passing cottontails' phones. They were everywhere. Short, fluffy, bucktoothed and numbering high enough to invade Zootopia. As he craned his neck to read one phone, he bumped into a bunny. He turned to find it was none other than the dastardly Officer Judy Hopps!

"Ah! Copper!"

The bunny blinked, "...Uh, you alright, dude?" she asked.

The pitch of her voice was a couple notes higher than he remembered. He bravely unfurled from his tactical fetal position and saw this bunny's eyes were green and she wore a misleadingly blue blouse. Not a blue cop uniform. Other than that, she was nearly identical to the real copper. "Oh, sorry, thought ya was someone else." Duke dusted himself off and turned… only to bump into Officer Judy Hopps!

"Ah!" Duke screamed.

It wasn't Officer Judy Hopps. "You okay?" the second nearly identical bunny asked.

Duke gripped at his pounding heart, "Peachy! I'm just peachy! Stepped on somethin' shaAHH!"

"What?" asked the third nearly identical bunny in a more masculine voice.

Duke stared, "Wait… you a guy?"

"Yeah, so?" the buck who looked like Judy Hopps folded his arms.

"Dat must suck."

"Shows what you know." He smirked, "All the does want the fembucks." The unnamed feminine buck strutted away with confidence, the other two does drooling after his shapely hips.

Duke tore himself from the oddly arousing sight. He had to get out of this place before he lost his mind! He needed a place without any bunnies! Luckily, he found that he was standing outside an abandoned building. He slipped in and pressed his back against the door.

"Okay, we'll lay low here for a while, Cash, and plan da next move."

He heard shuffling and creaking. It came from behind a shelf directly ahead. Probably some kits skipping school or bums shooting up. Nothing he couldn't handle.

With a mighty yawn, a portly, tall fox with his head hair parted down the middle sat up. He was clearly waking from a deep slumber and smacked his lips a couple times before sleepily turning to Duke.

The fox quirked his head, "Travis?"

"No!" Duke blurted, desperate to avoid a repeat of Podunk. "We ain't doin' dat and I ain't Travis!"

The fox's half-lidded eyes shot open and he gasped, "Customer! Tourist customer! With a family!" He stood up, doubling his already impressive height, and began wiping the top of the shelf with a rag. It was then that Duke realized the long shelf was actually a bar. All around him were booths and tables with chairs. This wasn't an abandoned building… He had snuck into an empty diner!

The fox finished and threw his arms up, "Welcome to 'Gideon Grey's Real Good Baked Stuff!'"

A couple seconds ticked by before Duke stuck his head through the door and inspected the outside. The building's gleam had faded, trash littered the corner and the windows were blotchy enough to hide the open sign and the stupidly long name. He came back in and said to who he assumed was Gideon Grey, "Ya know da outside of your place looks like a crack house, right?"

Gideon's enthusiasm deflated, "Well, sh-shh-shucks. I n-nn-nnn-never heard that b-bb-bbb-before."

"Whoa, slow down, pal. You're talkin' a mile a minute." Duke chuckled at his own quip but stopped when he noticed the fox wasn't joining him. In fact, he looked hurt. Duke rolled his eyes. He had forgotten how sensitive these country mammals could be. "Hey, I'm only kiddin' `round. Ya know, bustin' ya balls a li'l." He put on his best smile, "If I say somethin' too far, throw it right back at me. Come on, I can take it."

A bashful grin finally cracked on Gideon's muzzle, "N-nn-naw, I couldn't do that."

Duke pretended to be impressed, "Look at ya, a true gentlemammal. Don't get dose in da city. Ya said ya got eats?"

"Oh right, let me g-gg-grab you a mm-m-menu!" Gideon sprang to life and ran to the back room. With the coast clear, Duke's care dropped to annoyance. These kind of mammals were the worst! He plopped himself into a booth and hanged his head in his paws. He just knew he wouldn't get out of here without a headache.

A laminated sheet of paper was placed before him. "Th-thh-there you go. Might I recom-mm-mend the banana macadamia nut hot c-c-cakes." Duke ignored the selections. That can of beans had been filling and those juicy burgers from the Pickle, Picklle, Pikel gathering were still sitting well in his belly. He couldn't eat another bite. He was instead drawn to the deserted seats. Just outside were sidewalks flooded with hungry bunnies. In all his years on the streets, Duke had never worked with Nick Wilde. The guy had a taste for the overly complex plans. Duke preferred to keep things simple. However, with a little thought, the weasel believed he had found his answer.

"Does Bunnyburrow take naps afta' lunch? Where is everybody?" Duke feigned interest.

Gideon rubbed his neck, "Oh, well, you see, um, th-thh-this here place has m-mm-mmostly farmers. Meann-nn-nin' they can feed th-thh-their own. Usually, I-I-I-I make pastries for m-mm-mmmamals across t-t-t-town and..."

The cramp in Duke's neck was growing unbearable from the continuous nodding he was doing. Christ almighty, this fox talked slow and that stutter was like being stuck behind one of those plodding tractors with the brakes on. He eventually got the gist of the situation and waited for his opportunity.

"Sss-so I figured I could c-c-ccater to the visitor's m-mmarket."

"Tourists. Smart," Duke agreed. "How's dat goin'?"

"Not too swell," Gideon managed to hold his stutter for once. "Seems like no mammal knows I'm even here."

"Well dere's your problem, pal. No mammal can know you're here if ya don't advertise. All it takes is one good commercial."

"Commercial?" Gideon's eyes lit up.

Duke inwardly smirked. The bait had been taken; hook, line and sinker. "Sure! Once ya get word out about your..." Duke peered at the menu, "...Lemon Poppy Seed Pancakes, they'll flock over."

The fox's shoulders fell, "That s-ss-sounds like a dream b-bb-bbut I couldn't af-ff-ford that."

"Ya know what," Duke climbed onto the table, making himself eye-level with Gideon, "it's your lucky day. I happen ta be an expert of da, uh, cinemetactic arts and your fine eats have inspired me. I'll make da commercial for free and, together, we'll put 'Gideon Grey's Really Good Baked Things' on da map!"

"It's, um, 'Gideon Grey's Real Good Baked Stuff.'"

"We doin' dis or what?"

Gideon eagerly took Duke's paw and shook it in a bone crushing grip, "G-g-ggolly, mister, you are too good to be t-tt-true!"

* * *

Getting a crew was easy. Gideon had called his business partners, a pair of bunnies named Stu and Bonnie, and their huge family who were eager to help shoot a commercial. For no pay, to Duke's shock. The fox had even offered to compensate them in baked goods. They declined and said they were more than happy to help out their favorite baker. Duke concluded the only reason they would've agree to not take the free grub was because they were too full on carrots. The weasel was supervising from his hiding spot as his film crew scrubbed the diner clean and set up strips of aluminum foil to act as light sources. One of the hicks had even brought in his personal laptop to get good audio and everything. The weasel had never felt so giddy about a scam before. Usually, it was all dash and grab but conducting all these mammals at once was a new level of interesting. Sure, all the Hopps-lookalikes running around was a touch unnerving but it was also nice to actually be in control of a situation after the couple days he had.

"Mister, who's baby is that?"

"Huh?" Duke glanced at the glasses wearing li'l bunny who was obviously still in grade school. "Oh, dat's my daughter Cash."

The kit looked at his phone and then back at the baby who had been happily giggling up until now. "Isn't that the missing shrew Judy?"

"What're ya talkin' `bout? If dis was da missin' shrew, shouldn't she be back in Zootopia? Ya sayin' all shrews look da same?" He made his best accusatory glare.

"I've never seen a shrew before," the kit proclaimed as if he was proud of the fact.

"Well den, for your information, all shrews do look da same," Duke scoffed. "'Sides, if I was da kitnapper, which I'm not, why would I cast her in a commercial dat's gonna be broadcast ta all of Zootopia?"

The bunny nodded with that same eager yet blank smile, "That makes sense."

Duke returned the smile, "Right, I'd be pretty stupid ta do dat."

"You seem stupid."

Duke's smile morphed into a scowl. The li'l bunny's happy go-lucky face didn't change. Duke cleared his throat, "Why don't ya go help finish settin' up, Four-Eyes."

"Okay!" the newly named Four-Eyes skipped away with glee.

"And make sure everymammal turns off dere phones. We don't want no calls ruinin' da perfect shot," he added before grumbling over to Gideon who was running through the script. "Ya ready, pal?"

"You betcha!"

"Great! Here's your prop. A baby will really sell da wholesome feel." He handed both Cash and the thimble-sized bottle to him. "She can be a bit of a chatterbox, so distract her with dis. Don't forget ta tilt da head up." Duke turned back to the diner, "Alright, extras to your marks!" At his orders, the crew filled the chairs. "Roll audio!" One tall buck struggled to hold up a broom with a simple microphone taped to the end. Duke pulled out his phone and aimed the camera at Gideon. "Quiet on set! Marker!"

Four-Eyes raised a cutting board and read the words written on it with ketchup, "Shot 1-Avocado, take 1, mark." He slapped the top of the cutting board with a steak knife.

"And… action!"

The bunnies started silently acting like satisfied customers, cutting food that wasn't there, miming conversations. Duke panned the lens across the fluffy sea until he came to the tall, red star of the show. He centered the fox and signaled him to go.

"H-hh-hhh-hi th-thh-thhh-there, my n-nnn-nname's G-GG-GGideon—"

"CUT!"

Duke dragged a paw down his face in frustration. The bunnies awkwardly looked away from the embarrassed fox.

"That was terrible," Four-Eyes helpfully pointed out.

The weasel stepped towards Gideon, while pocketing his phone. His brow knit, his arms crossed. The big guy was too ashamed to stutter another word, finding himself unable to gaze anywhere except the floor. Duke stood before Gideon for some time before he finally spoke.

"I had a stutter."

Every ear perked towards the weasel, ensnared by his statement. None more so than Gideon who finally managed a peek.

"Lemme tell ya what happened..."

 **17 Years Ago:**

Duke was nervous. Here he was, 10 years old, ready to have his first ever sleepover with both boys and girls. His parents had allowed it, as long as nobody left the house after dark. Going out the front door was forbidden. They had made it perfectly clear to every child present. Which was why, when he was dared to go outside and touch the fence, he had said no.

"Ya can't say no! It's 'Truth or Dare' and ya chose dare!" pointed out one of the children.

"Yeah, whatsa matta, Duke? Ya scared?" taunted another.

Duke made a mental note to never invite his popular classmates over ever again. They had easily riled up everyone else into egging him out the door under threat of being teased with name calling. Soon, his nerves got to him and he put his paw on the doorknob. The entrance swung open to the black, cold void. His still developing night vision let him see a fair distance, but he still preferred daylight. With trembling legs he walked down his cracked walkway. He knew this lawn. He passed the same broken dryer on the grass every day, but the quiet, empty night somehow made the world infinitely more terrifying. Anything could be hiding out here. Monsters… Burglars… Weasel-eating dragons… His pulse skyrocketed as his claws brushed the wire fence. Instantly, he spun around and bolted back into his house! He didn't care who saw how scared he was! He needed to be inside!

Duke slammed the door shut behind him, gulping down as much air his tiny lungs could. He noticed how none of the other children were congratulating him or making fun of him or anything. They were instead silently looking up at the grown weasel who had seen the entire thing.

"Duke, we told you not to go outside," his father said.

The young weasel barely nodded.

The older weasel sighed and pulled his disciplinary tools from his pocket, "Alright, you know how punishment works. Racquetball or ping pong ball. Choose one and bend over."

 **PRESENT:**

"And he punished me, right den and dere, in front of all da others," Duke concluded his tale with a harrowing breath.

The several dozen bunnies stared. Most in confusion, one or two in disgust. "Wait, what did he do with the balls?" one asked.

"I feel like we focused on the wrong part of the story," commented Four-Eyes.

Duke looked up at Gideon with fire in his eyes, "Ever since den, I could never talk straight in front of others." He clambered onto a table and gripped the fox's shoulders, "But listen ta me now! Not a single slip! I got over it! I know how dis feels! I beat it and you can, too, Gideon!"

The words resonated with the fox. His shame and embarrassment melted away. Unwavering confidence took their place. His back straightened, his shoulders squared. Duke could see he was ready. He pulled out his camera and framed the shot.

"Action!"

* * *

The pen ran out of ink. Judy fruitlessly scratched her favorite carrot-shaped ballpoint, hoping to get some last couple of strokes onto the page. Her notepad was caked with jottings on the kitnapping case. Travis had given a thorough testimony before he refused to press charges and started adamantly defending Duke's actions. It was remarkable how kind-hearted the once thuggish ferret had become. Judy wondered, were the nicest mammals in the world all at some point bullies? It was the most sensible question about the case that racked her mind for the rest of the day. The least sensible was Duke's involvement. On the ride back to Zootopia, she had been trying to draw up an explanation. This continued throughout the day in her cubicle, while taking the train home and into the night. She was no closer to an answer. Without a writing instrument to release her thoughts, the bunny instead vented to her partner.

Judy clutched a pawful of head fur, "What motive could Duke possibly have to kitnap Judy Clawleone Big?"

"Money," came Nick's voice.

"Sure, it's the one thing he can't say no to. As long as he doesn't mind dealing with two giant crime families after him," she leaned back in her chair. "He's stupid, but he's not that stupid."

"Revenge."

She considered the possibility. Big did nearly ice him and holding grudges wasn't above the weasel but this was a step too far. This was getting them nowhere. They couldn't go to Bogo claiming that Weaselton, the Duke of Bootleg, within an hour of his release kitnapped the well-protected granddaughter of Big and got away with nothing to back them up except a single eye-witness! That's the weakest evidence there is! They defied the Chief! Went against his orders! They can't come back from that without results! She tossed the notepad aside and—

"Stew."

Judy started from his her cascading ideas, "Huh?"

Nick pointed his spoon towards the dinner table. "You threw your sleuth-book into the stew."

The bunny suddenly remembered that she was sitting across from Nick at a romantic setting. Well… it used to be romantic. Fresh roses once standing in a glittering vase now lay strewn across the floor, the tipped vase dripping water over the table edge. Brown globs of veggie stew splattered the wood in a splash formation. The center of the culinary explosion was the communal stew pot between them which now had a papery new ingredient sinking below the surface.

"Oh no!" Judy fished the pad out. The bottom half was stained to illegibility. Her theories, clues, notes… ruined.

"You can use mine. I copied most of your work."

A wave of guilt hit her as she saw the fox was covered in their dinner. "Nick! Your fur! Your shirt! I'm so sorry!" She scrambled to her tiny sink and wet a towel. She cursed herself a thousand times over as she tried to clean him up. She had done it again. Putting work ahead of Nick. Here he was, cooking her a loving meal and she's too busy obsessing about the case to notice she'd spilled that meal all over him.

His paw gently took her wrist. "Easy, Carrots. I think you got it." She hadn't realized how vigorously she had been scrubbing. His shirt was now spotless but soaked in tap water. Rather than have her give his fur the same treatment, Nick had opted to lick his jowls clean. "Mmm, now I'm handsome and delicious."

One of those signature smiles crossed his face. Judy held back the urge to laugh and return that joke with her own. Instead, she dug down deep and asked, "Why do you put up with me?" The first words had came out with a struggle but after them, the rest spilled uncontrollably. "You put in all this effort and I completely destroy everything! I ignore you for hours to work even after we've clocked out! I'm a terrible girlfriend!" Tears stung and she clenched her eyes shut to keep them from flowing.

"Y'up."

The pain stopped. In its place appeared shock and confusion as Judy looked at Nick. The fox was casually nodding in agreement.

"You're right." He counted on his claws, "You never stop working. You never suggest we do anything together as a couple. That's all me. You can't sing and I pray you never try to serenade me. Every single one of our conversations seem to revolve around cases. In fact, despite being an overly emotional bunny, the only thing you can seem to do when it comes to relationships is flirt." He thought for a second then clarified, "Second. Always second. You've never flirted first."

Judy took a step back. Of course she was an open book to the clever fox. Clearly, he was only sticking around her out of pity and—

"Now, me on the other paw? I'm a million times worse." Judy blinked at his comment. "I constantly play the cool, smart guy like I'm stuck in high school, don't I?" He leaned expectantly towards her.

"Um…" The conversation had taken an odd turn but now that the concept had been put into her mind, she couldn't help but remember the numerous childish ways Nick tried to act hip. "Kinda?"

Nick threw his arms up, "Right! Even though I'm an adult. Plus, I tease you." He shook his head in disgust. "Trying to get you to laugh at bad jokes or make you blush."

"Ugh!" Judy massaged her head at the memories of the endless barrage of innuendos and puns, "On an almost hourly basis."

"More like a minute a basis."

Multiple little grievances came to light. Too many to count. She voiced the most recent one, "And to top it all off, your breath reeks of coffee all day because you refuse to brush in the morning!"

"I am a terrible boyfriend!"

Quiet.

She stared at him, wide-eyed. Only the final drip drops of the vase water was heard.

"No, you're not!" Judy roared in anger. "Those are things I love about you!"

"Oh yeah?!"

"Yeah!"

"Well, guess what, the working, the bad singing? Those are the things I love about you!" Nick shouted back.

"Great, you both love each other!" a muffled voice boomed through the wall. "Now, kiss and shut up!"

A second muffled voice joined him, "You shut up, Pronk. They're still getting used to dating!"

"No, you shut up!"

"You!"

"You!"

As her neighbors devolved into another endless argument, Judy realized the shouting match had left her winded, exhausted and… relieved. The tensions and stress from the day were gone. She watched in astonishment as that knowing smirk returned to Nick's face. The one that told her he had been leading her on the whole time. An odd yet completely Nick way of allowing her to let off steam. She fell forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso. His paws stroked her ears and with those strokes her doubts and worries evaporated.

"Thank you," she sighed.

"Anytime."

It really seemed like the perfect time for the second kiss. The mood was right. They were holding each other tight. And that desire to prove she could be romantic remained, resting somewhere deep inside, pestering to get out. But for now, she was just happy to be near him. Still, one last question lingered, "...How are you so calm? Why aren't you worried for li'l Judy?"

He shrugged, "Because it's Duke."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"You only know Duke as the loudmouth thief but I know him as a mammal. As long as she's with Duke, nothing bad will happen to li'l Judy. Trust me, there's a reason why that weasel only pirates _family_ films."

* * *

Duke's fingers flew across the keyboard. After wrapping the shoot, he had been hard at work on Gideon's computer. The old device was limited by its standard bare-bones video clip editor, but that wasn't gonna get in his way. He had worked tirelessly, not even stopping when Gideon called for supper. In truth, he had arranged the footage the way he needed hours ago. However, he kept coming back to make minor changes. Some tweak to the color. A little more flare to the text. It had been ages since he could play around with footage.

In fact, it was 17 years ago…

 **WHAT REALLY HAPPENED 17 YEARS AGO:**

"Choose one and bend over," Duke narrated while shaking the crummy action figure to simulate talking. He stopped the family camcorder and started repositioning for the next shot. The scratched, stained wooden floor served as the miniature living room for the sleepover that only existed in his imagination. The various knick knacks and broken toys filled in for the classmates who would never come over. Some were missing arms, had faded colors or even melted faces. Nothing like the toys he saw the other kits bring to class. Asking to borrow one would only get him accusations of weaseling them out of their good toys, so he learned to love his melted plastic. Especially after he discovered his dad's camera.

After school, he would always rush home to record the next chapter of Derek, Fighter of Invading Aliens, Daring Explorer of Space, and the one weasel in the universe who could stay up past his bedtime! So far he catalogued Derek's discovery of over 29 planets, but never had he faced the a terror like the powerful emperor Fator!

Duke laid on his belly, aiming the camera lens up at the malicious Fator action figure, "Choose your fate, Derek!" The fiend had just sentenced the clearly innocent Derek and the hero had to make his escape. This called for an epic shot! Duke needed to be higher. His sights fell on his dad's desk. This was why he liked using his dad's study even though he wasn't supposed to.

Pulling the drawers out and using them as steps, the young weasel climbed to the top. He now had a majestic view of the entire room. Duke felt like he was looking through the eyes of a giraffe. He pressed record and framed action figures down below, when his foot slipped on a stray paper. He regained his balance and snagged the paper before it could fly away. He didn't mean to read it, there were too many words and zero pictures. But this page had a particular word at the top. A word he had only just learned how to spell. It was his name.

Thumps approached and his ears swiveled towards the door. Duke jumped to the floor, scooped up his toys and hid behind the door. It swung open and his dad stomped in, yelling at his phone, "I've been makin' every payment on time! Double even, in cash! Dey can't just raise da interest like they're loan sharks or somethin'!"

Duke tiptoed around the open door into the hall. If he got caught in the study, he'd be so grounded. Duke didn't breathe until he was on the other side. There was the click of the phone being hung up and he heard his dad mutter, "This ain't never gonna end." Duke dared to peek. His dad was rubbing his salt & pepper hair as he looked over the page with Duke's name on it. From this angle the grown weasel's face was hidden, but his shoulders were… shaking. Duke turned on the camera's playback and rewound to the paper. Most of the words were too many and too big for him. He would at a later year be able to decipher them as various items listed under his name like 'hospital bills,' 'education,' 'broken window' and it would be even later before he realized his dad's shoulder shaking was the trembling of a crying mammal. What he did recognize were the huge numbers next to the words. There were so many zeroes.

So... many... zeroes...

Under _his_ name.

 **PRESENT:**

A shudder rattled through Duke's body before he turned his attention back to the screen. "Almost done, Cash," Duke stretched his body and squinted his dry eyeballs. "Jussa couple more touches and we'll be in business."

The baby shrew grumbled in her carrier. The grumble grew into a whine. And then the whine exploded. "WAAAAA!"

"Hey! Whoa!" Duke scrambled from the computer. Folding his ears down tightly, he leaned his nose towards the child, "What? Ya don't need changin'? Ya hungry?" He offered the tiny bottle but she kept wailing. "Don't tell me ya bored again! I ain't your personal slapstick machine!"

"MAAAMAAAAAAA! MAAAMAAAAA!"

Duke went cold. This was bad. He couldn't let Gideon hear this. It would open up a whole can of worms about a family backstory he hadn't made up yet. He felt the snag of the film knotted around his ankle and he remembered the mother tiger holding the child weasel close. He scooped up the shrew and cradled her on his shoulder. The pain streaking through his eardrums was immense.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. I gotcha. Duke's here. Don't cry. I'm gettin' ya ta mama. You'll see her soon. I gotcha." He tried to make the random promises sound as peaceful and calming as possible. To his surprise the baby quieted down to sniffles and burrowed her tiny nose in his fur. "That's it. You're safe. Don'tcha dare bite me or I'll toss ya down da stairs. Shh… Shh..." Satisfied, he moved to put her back in the carrier so he could go back to the computer. Duke found, though, that he could not. Mini shrew claws clung to him like a vice. He tugged again. She clung harder. He let his arms drop. The furball was stuck there like a big fluffy zit.

"Terrific."

A square of color caught his attention. On the shelf nearby was a dazzling children's book with a cartoonish creature on the cover. With a heavy groan, Duke grabbed the book and took a seat.

"Hey," he prodded the zit. "Ya gonna stay dere all night? Ya do dat and ya gonna miss da Dr. Zoos story." He opened the old tome to the first bedazzling page, "Ooh, look at dat. Pretty, right?" He spied her nose poking out of his shoulder. "Ya know, Dr. Zoos ain't a real a doc. He pretends ta be one when he's actually a crazy poet who makes up words when he writes himself into a corner. Messed up words like thneeds and schloppity-schlopp." Cash was now reaching towards the magical pages. "Yeah, ya dumb kits always love dis stupid shit. Well, ya seem ta be interested. Let's give it a read. What's dis one called?"

 **One book later:**

"Y-y-you're off ta Great P-PPP-Places! Today is y-y-your day! Your mountain is w-www-waitin'. Ss-so, get on your way!" Duke blubbered through his tears and shut the book. His face was a wreck, snot rolled out of his nose. "Christ Almighty! Dat was so beautiful!" he choked.

Li'l Judy snoozed through the grown mammal's cries.

* * *

The store door slammed shut behind him. "Up yours, asshole!" Donny gave the lemur inside the finger. His tiny almost microscopic paw did not have the desired effect. He mumbled obscenities as he swiped through his contacts and finally made it to the P's.

"Pops!" he cheered when the line was picked up.

"Donny? Boy, where have ya been? No one's seen ya since yesterday—"

"Yeah yeah, sorry, Pops. My phone got busted, I had to get a new one, but this nowhere town's got wi-fi slower than gran-gran's drivin'. I had to wait all day 'fore my info transferred." He gave another strong finger to the good-for-nothing phone shop. "But that's not the point! I found li'l Judy!"

"You what?!"

"This dumbass weasel's got her. I lost him in Podunk but he can't've gotten far. You gotta send everyone down here!" Donny was getting pumped. He couldn't wait to see the look on that weasel's mug when he showed up with the entire Clawloene family behind him. He imagined it'd be the best beating ever. It was at this point he realized that his father hadn't responded. "Pops?"

"Have you told anyone?"

"Uh, no, I haven't… Aw, fuck, you don't want me to call the Bigs, do ya?" he growled.

"Donny, listen to me very carefully. You can't tell no one."

"What?! What the fuck are you— What about li'l—"

"Donny! What have I always told you?"

Donny's chest tightened. The night air turned more frigid than Tundratown.

"Don't be a squealer, Donny."

END CHAPTER FOUR

* * *

 _In 1991, we lost one of the greatest authors of them all. A writer who touched our hearts and made us smile with fun rhymes and even funnier made up words. He spun stories so simple yet so true. Tales for children that told jokes not to make fun of others but instead to teach fairness and justice. They were meant for children, so why do they still inspire me?_

 _"Because, after all, a person's a person, no matter how small."_

 _-Theodor Seuss Geisel (1904-1991)_


	5. MERGERS

_My script for Nickelodeon has been submitted! Now I can focus on my fics again! Let's turn dis up a notch!_

 **CA$H ONLY  
** _Chapter 5: Merger$  
_ By: I Write Big

Podunk has only one bar in town and it closes promptly at 1am. After a long day, the manager had almost locked the last customer inside. It was the tiny, drunken shrew's loud curses that alerted them to his sorry ass still at the bar. They escorted him, shouting and flailing, outside. The brisk evening air reminded Donny that he hadn't gotten to a nice bed last night and probably wouldn't tonight either. The few motels in this tiny shithole town were closed up tight.

At least the gas station was open 24 hours.

The only brew the station's store fridge had in his size was Phull Muun. He somberly stared at the 6-pack for a good 19 minutes before the goat at the register asked him to leave. Donny bought the beer and curled up on the stone bench outside, his thoughts endlessly drifting to and from a particular shrew just south of the border. He got through four bottles before he slipped into a sleep he wished to never wake from.

"Zis is not breakfast."

Light burned through his eyes that were trapped in a skull that was pounding like he had taken on a hoofball player. Fuck, was he thirsty.

"Nyet!"

Something swiped the beer out of his paws. It finally occurred to Donny that somebody was standing over him. He squinted to give the asshole a glare only to be scooped up by a pair of thick, sinemy arms. The world jostled around him and he figured he was being carried. Probably being kitnapped like li'l Judy. That was fine. He didn't care anymore.

The world suddenly got darker and much more tolerable. Cold glass pressed against his lips.

"Drink."

Liquid splashed into his muzzle. He gulped down a drink that tasted better than any cocktail a bartender had ever mixed him and it washed away the cotton lining his mouth. The last swig went down wrong and he coughed, "What the, ahem, what did I just drink?"

"Milk. Family recipe."

Donny's peepers barely opened and he spied a graying cow stomp around. She was stacking plastic-wrapped cheese blocks, milk bottles and other dairy products into wide displays. The shrew slowly grasped his bearings. He was in a little shop, decorated in an old-country, log cabin style. Framed photos of dozens of different species of mammals, big and small, covered the walls. A little TV in the corner was tuned to ZNN. The early-bird news show hadn't even started yet so there was only corny infomercials.

"Eat."

A plate of steaming pancakes was slid in front of him. They were silver-dollar pancakes, but to a shrew of his stature they were a feast. And they smelt like heaven. "Miss..." he couldn't look away from the glorious food, "am I dead?"

"Dead? HA!" a throaty chortle gurgled from the cow's wrinkled nose. "You drank much too many. You slept outside store. Zat is all. Eat."

Donny's stomach was an odd mix of empty and fuming toxic acid. He felt any food going in would immediately come back out. His hunger won in the end and he shoveled the first forkful. "Oh… goddamn… buttermilk..." he shivered in pure ecstasy. The rest of the stack disappeared within minutes. His satisfied face looked at the walls again. He could see now how close everyone held each other and the genuine smiles. At the center of the largest photo stood the same cow working next to him. Instead of a smile, she wore a stern grimace that reminded him of his nana. "You've got quite the family, Miss."

"Bah!" she grumbled as she put out the yogurt. "Zey leave. Every one. Never come back."

"I'm sure they'll visit."

"Not anymore!" she whipped towards him, flashing a glare that froze him solid. "I made sure zis time." In an instant, the cow went back to her work, but the same stern grimace remained. "Family should love. My family... _use_."

The way she spat that last word resonated in Donny's mind. A sense of understanding shined over him as he struggled to put the words together, "But what if… what if you trust your family? Should you do what they say, even if it seems like they're doing something... wrong? My niece, she's… I love that girl. My family don't exactly love where she came from but she's my middle brother's angel and I love her. If I don't do something..."

"Zey will use her," she finished.

Donny knew she was right. He knew exactly what Pops was planning and he couldn't stand by and let it happen. Not again. Not like he did with… Donny furiously pushed away the bad memory of a sad shrew crying on the orphanage steps. He needed to get li'l Judy before Pops. He just had to find her.

The opening chimes of the 'Good Morning, Zootopia' hour played on the TV. "Hello and good morning, Zootopia," greeted the host, "this morning we have some breaking news on the whereabouts of the missing Judy Clawleone Big."

* * *

A familiar, portly, tall fox stepped into view. He fed a baby shrew in his arms. "Hi there, I'm Gideon Grey, founder and owner of 'Gideon Grey's Real Good Baked Stuff.' Ask yourself, are you tired of having automated, conveyor belt food full of all those funny stuff? Wouldn't you rather enjoy a meal that was paw-made with the freshest of ingredients that were grown right here by the sons and daughters of Bunnyburrow? Doesn't coming to a place that treats you like family sound nice?" Images of the most delicious diner food appeared in delectable detail. "Here at 'Gideon Grey's Real Good Baked Stuff' we pride ourselves in serving the best food in the tri-county area. We have the local farms to thank for that opportunity." Tables of joyful, welcoming rabbits waved before Gideon stepped forward again, making extra sure to show off the baby shrew. "We take all cards and cash. Come on down, when you can. Shoot, why not today? And your family can be part of our family too."

The diner's name, address and contact info blazed across the screen and the ZooTube video ended. A grid of video suggestions took its place. A couple movie reviews, baking videos, one or two let's plays—

"Hopps," the gravelly voice of Bogo shook Judy back to reality. "Your thoughts?"

The bunny didn't really know what to think. She had been pretending to be going over a report about over 3,000 counterfeit bucks being found at First National in order to hide her kitnapping notes when Bogo had called her and Nick into his office. She'd assumed the Chief had caught onto their little field trip the other day and was going to reprimand them. Instead, he had silently pulled up, apparently, the highest trending video on the internet. Cheese and crackers, it was smack dab on top of the recommendations list and everything with li'l Judy's face next to Gideon's as the thumbnail.

"I, uh..." her suddenly dry throat made her crave a cup of water, "That has to be the longest Gideon's ever gone without stuttering. I'm impressed."

Bogo didn't laugh, just as she expected, and instead pulled up a unlisted video. "This was emailed to the Tundratown Limo Service this morning." It was the same commercial for the diner but the video kept jumping to random parts.

"We have - your - family - Ask yourself - wouldn't you rather - having - your - daughters - sound nice? - Come on down - Bunnyburrow? - Funny stuff?" A big red X emblazoned across the screen followed by a warning siren. "Today? - Bunnyburrow? - Gideon Grey's Real Good Baked Stuff - Cash." The image froze on happy li'l Judy with a time and a large ransom amount underneath. It came on screen with a glittery golden sparkle transition followed by a _KA-CHING!_ sound effect.

Judy twitched. The twitch started in her eye, then scurried down her nose, through her entire body until it ended in her foot which proceeded to thump.

Hard.

"Bunnyburrow?!" she exclaimed. "Where did that come from? That's over 50 miles away from Skoll Canyon Landfill and it's actually _closer_ to Zootopia! What, did Duke change his mind and just turn around? 'Oh, I already spent a day goin' South, let's try da complete opposite direction!' And why is my family there?! Are they involved?! Cheese and crackers, what is going on!?"

Nick, his stare blank and unreadable, sipped his coffee.

"'Duke?' As in, Duke Weaselton?" Bogo closed the ZooTube video.

Nick stopped mid-sip.

The Chief leaned over his desk with a hard glare, "Are you under the impression that he is our kitnapper?"

Nick said, "Sir, that's—"

"I was asking Hopps."

The rock-solid eye contact bore into the bunny officer's soul. She had stared down many a hardened criminal. Some were armed to the teeth with rap sheets that covered multiple homicides. However, she had never ever lied to her boss. The very thought of it felt wrong. The truth wanted out. It needed to come out. It could help with the case! There was no reason to lie!

"He's our lead suspect," she sighed.

Bogo's glare held for a tad longer. He then leaned back and said, "That's more suspects than we got."

Judy and Nick blinked.

"While what I said about you being too close to this case is still true, the fact remains that you are the only Bunnyburrow expert in the entirety of the ZPD."

"Expert...?" Judy muttered the word.

Bogo read from a clipboard, "Are you familiar with the layout of the land?"

"I… know it like the back of my paw."

He checked something off, "Do the locals trust you?"

"I grew up with them."

"Then, Officer Hopps," he dropped the clipboard on his desk and removed his glasses, "you are officially more qualified than any other officer here. The Bigs have already provided us with the ransom money. Get your tails to Bunnyburrow and end this. When you're done, I expect a full report on this Skoll Canyon Landfill before I assign you both parking duty."

* * *

Homemade smoke bombs are probably the easiest things to make in the world. All you need is a powdery substance of your choice for the smoke and sugar for the explosive. Dozens of recipes existed online that showed how to make a smoke bomb that you could even tailor to pump out smog in your favorite color. It had been awhile since Duke had brewed an emergency escape popper, as he liked to call them, but with how important this day was, he decided to be cautious. Using Gideon's kitchen as his lab, he mixed together the right amounts of baking soda and sugar and stuffed the concoction into Cash's little baby bottle. "Today's da day, Cash. Today, ya get ta see mama again. Ain't dat excitin'?"

"Hahaha! Fuck it!" clapped Cash.

The weasel groaned, "Yeah, don't let your mama hear dat word. She ain't gonna be too happy 'bout dat."

"W-W-What was that?" Gideon suddenly entered the kitchen. Duke scrambled to hide the bowl behind his back. "Uh, what are ya—"

"NOTHIN'!" Duke and Gideon stared at each other in awkward silence, "I mean, jussa makin' a li'l snack for da road. Ya don't mind, right?"

A toothy grin cracked across Gideon's face, "You k-k-kidding? After all your help, you could rob the whole p-p-pantry. By the way, d-d-did I hear right? Is Cash's m-m-ma coming?"

"Mama!" cheered the baby shrew before Duke could say anything.

Duke grit his teeth. All this making shit up as he went was seriously getting on his nerves. "Maybe. I don't know. She said she might." He quickly pocketed the little bottle, "Listen, I'm gonna sit up front and wait for her. Can ya keep an eye on Cash for me? Things between me and da misses can get a li'l shouty."

The fox nodded and Duke headed out the kitchen doors. "Hey, Duke," he heard the baker call, "Even if the commercial don't bring more m-m-mammals in, I-I-I appreciate what you did. I consider you a friend."

Duke inwardly sighed and put on one last kind face, "Ya know, one day some mammal is gonna take advantage of that big heart of yers."

"Sure, but if we d-d-don't be the change we want to see in the world, then w-w-what kind of life will our k-k-kits have?"

The film around Duke's ankle tightened. It was as if any blood flow going to his foot had been cut off and left the limb ice cold. Pushing the pain away, he pressed his weight into his leg and stiffly walked to the same booth he had sat in yesterday. "Fucking hillbilly," he grumbled as he slid into the sleak, cushioned seat. He looked out the window. Where once roared an endless sea of fluffy bunnies was an empty street. Empty save for an inconspicuous box truck parked on the corner. He narrowed his gaze at the vehicle.

Just like in the movies.

It was definitely them.

The only question was, why an ice cream truck?

* * *

"S-s-s-sorry, again about-t-t-t this-s-s-s," shivered the Bunnyburrow sheriff, his breath fogging in the ice cream truck freezer, "We don't-t-t-t have much in the way of undercover vehicles-s-s-s."

"C-c-c-completely underst-t-tand," Nick huffed into his paws in an attempt to stay warm.

"We're actually fine," Mr. Big shrugged. He and his fellow arctic mammals didn't seem fazed by the below freezing temperature.

A gasp came from Judy, who was observing the diner with binoculars, "I s-s-see him!"

"Where?" demanded Mr. Big. His personal polar bear Koslov moved to get out only for Nick to throw his arms around the big guy.

"Stop!" Judy ordered. "It's not the des-s-signated time, sir. We're going to get your granddaughter back, but you need to do wha-t-t we say." She waited for the tense shrew to relax before she talked into her walkie. "All t-t-teams, I have eyes on the perp. Confirm."

One by one, the officers under her charge called in. They either also had visual on Duke or had the exits covered. None could verify li'l Judy's location. She checked her watch. Three more minutes until the exchange. This should be clean. The Bigs were willing to pay any price for their child. Koslov would go in there, leave the money, get li'l Judy and come back out. If they could arrest Duke after, then great. Li'l Judy's safety, though, was the main priority.

 _Bzzt. Bzzt._

Everyone slowly turned towards Mr. Big who pulled out his phone. He took one look at the screen and knitted his brow, "Oh boy..." He answered it, "Sweetie, I can't talk right now, I'm busy—"

"DADDY! Did you see this video?!" screamed the unmistakable voice of Fru Fru. "This horrible, ugly, fat fox has my baby! It's all over the internet!"

"Yes, I know, sweetie. I'm at where they shot that video. I'm about to get her back—"

"You haven't gotten her yet?!" Fru Fru somehow got even louder. Mr. Big held the device away from his ear. Koslov took it and held it even further away. She could still be easily heard. "Do I have to do _everything_ myself?! You get in there and get my baby back _right now_ , daddy, before the rest of Zootopia gets there first!"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Rest of Zootopia?" questioned Nick.

Judy's ears flopped flat against her back as her brain put the pieces together. "No way..." She then noticed, she wasn't just shivering… the entire truck was also vibrating. It was like a miniature earthquake.

"Hopps, we got a problem at the perimeter!" a voice roared through her walkie before the connection was cut.

She saw them. Leading the charge was a cheetah. Of course, the fast ones get here first. Then came the other feline predators. Then some of the more agile prey. Some were even riding on the shoulders of a couple generous elephants. They all had their smartphones raised high, cameras at the ready. It was a stampede of _bloggers_...

The cheetah ripped through the diner doors first, followed closely by a panther. After that, Judy couldn't tell who got in next. The road before her had become a chaotic riot of mammals trying to enter currently the most internet-famous location in the world. Those hopelessly stuck outside proceeded to take selfies or start livestreaming. She was vaguely aware of Mr. Big loudly demanding to know what was going on and Nick trying to placate him and Koslov. Judy's attention, however, was stuck on the diner window she could still barely see over the horror.

He sat there, looking straight back at her, with a smug-ass smile.

* * *

Duke raised an eyebrow as he saw the cottontail come out of the truck with a metal briefcase. Its handle was clenched tightly in her paw. He then saw Wilde stick his nose out. His desperate cries for her to come back were drowned by the babbling bloggers and the copper disappeared into the mob. Duke watched the front door, ignoring Gideon who was happily taking orders left and right. At last, she squeezed through a pair of giraffe legs and came to his booth.

The metal briefcase slammed down before the weasel and she growled, "Where's Judy?"

He opened his mouth and then hesitated, "Wait, ain't you Judy?"

"Not me, the other Judy! Where is she? I got the cash!"

"Da hell ya talkin' 'bout? I still got Cash. Don't ya try ta pull a fast one on me, copper!"

Judy was at a loss, "What are you even talking about?"

"Don't play dumb! You're Judy, ya got da money dat you're gonna give ta me for Cash."

"Why would you exchange money for cash? They're the same thing!"

"Not cash money! Cash da baby shrew!"

"My goddaughter's name is not Cash!"

Duke thought for a second, "...Oh, right, dat's da name _I_ gave her. Jeez, dis whole time her name was Judy? Dat's juss confusin'. Hold on a sec, she's ya goddaughter?"

"YOU DON'T KNOW THE NAME OF THE SHREW YOU KITNAPPED?!" Judy slammed her face on the table. Her following scream was muffled by the even louder crowd.

"Christ Almighty, ya havin' one of dem mental breakdowns?" He got no response. The bunny kept her nose pressed against the table. Duke considered that it was best to wrap this fiasco quickly and reached for the briefcase. His claws had barely scratched the handle before a bunny paw grabbed his wrist.

"How did you do it, huh? The kitnapping was spotless, you traveled nearly a hundred miles in 2 days, cheese and crackers, you even got my _parents_ to star in your ransom _commercial_! HOW?!"

Despite the manic look she was giving, Duke couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride, "What's dat, cottontail? Ya actually impressed with me?"

"Who helped you?"

"Nobody!" he laughed, "I've been runnin' my ass off on my own since da start."

She tightened her hold on his wrist, "I don't believe that for a second."

"Too bad, dat's da—"

"I know you!" Something snapped in Judy's head, "You don't make big complicated plans, you only deliver for them! That's all you do! I've booked you seventeen times! You're not a criminal mastermind! You're a pickpocket! You're a thief! You're a bootlegger! You're nothing but a _dirty, wily, little weasel_!"

It was quiet.

Whether that silence was the rowdy mammals suddenly being polite or just his imagination, it couldn't be said.

There was pain.

Duke didn't expect the pain.

That same insult had been flung at him by coppers, customers, even strangers on the sidewalk… but never her. Never from Miss You-Can-Be-Anything. They were the same exact words… yet they hurt worse than the beating that junkyard shrew gave him. Worse than that crazy cow's smacks. Worse than… _anything_. He could see the regret in her eyes, but it didn't matter. She had said what she really thought of him.

He took the briefcase without anymore resistance and slipped out of the booth.

"Weselton, I—"

"She's in da kitchen. Don't worry, I took good care of her." He held his stare straight ahead towards his exit. "Ya know, originally, I was only da delivery guy. Den things went crazy and I had ta think on my feet. In da end, I surprised myself with how much I made happen. But you're right. Dis was juss another crime done by juss another weasel. Dat's all I'm good for." He took one last look at her, drinking in the hurt she was showing, "And it's Weaselton, ya _emotional, dumb, fuckin'_ cottontail."

With the biggest score of his life tucked under his arms, he vanished into the bloggers. The hurricane of bodies hid his presence as he easily slipped out of the diner and around the corner.

Nobody saw him leave.

Judy stayed in the booth for a little while longer until she also finally slid out of the seat. She trudged towards the kitchen door. It was the Night Howler press conference all over again. Judy wasn't exactly friends with Duke like she had been with Nick, but she had always thought the weasel could be better. She didn't become a cop to put mammals away. She wanted to make the world a better place. To make mammals change. Nick had changed. Gideon had changed. Her parents had changed. Up until then, she thought she had changed too. Was it truly beyond belief that Duke could've pulled this off alone? She had always encouraged him to strive to do more with his life. Was this what he thought she meant?

She pushed open the door and saw a baby carrier, almost as big as her, sitting on the counter. A trembling sigh escaped her lips. It didn't matter. She had failed Duke and she needed to move on. Now, the only thing she had left was a duty. Judy launched herself and caught the counter edge and hefted her body the rest of the way.

"Hey, li'l Judy, it's your Aunt Big Ju—" she froze like a statue. Her pupils shrank to pinpricks. Every minute ounce of her sympathy broiled to godly rage.

* * *

Duke was a good three blocks away and still pushing against the neverending tide of mammals before he came to an abrupt stop. "What da fuck am I doin'?" he slapped his forehead, "Me and cottontail juss did da old stupid 'misunderstandin'/ya suck' cliche dat's in every movie _ever_! All I has ta do is go back in dere, hear her out and we won't hate each other no more."

He whipped around back towards the diner! And then he stopped.

"Gah! Duke, ya dumbass! Da two of ya ain't pals. Ya go in dere, she'll slap da cuffs on ya."

He turned to leave again! He stopped again!

"But if me and cottontail ain't pals, den why do I care what she thinks of me? Is it 'cause, in some fucked up way, our copper-robber thing is da closest thing I have to a pal thing?" He regarded the not so distant diner with newfound passion, "Is it 'cause... cottontail was da only mammal who knew who I really was and was still dumb enough ta say dat I could be somethin' more… and was serious? Is dat it?"

"He's not talking to us, right?" a voice asked from behind him.

"Mind yer own damn business!" Duke turned towards the rude eavesdroppers and, for a fourth time, stopped.

"Well hey there, _Travis_."

Duke gulped, "Oh Pikels..." He dove between one of their legs but a paw grabbed his tail. Within seconds, he was thrown into a dead-end alley. He tried scaling the brick wall but the heavy metal briefcase pulled him back down.

"Where you going, hot stuff?"

Duke faced his capturerers. He counted three. The same lioness, deer and squirrel from Podunk. "Ladies!" Duke put on his toothiest smile. "So great ta see ya! Look, I'm sorry 'bout crashin' da Pickle, Picklle, Pikel picnic. Dat cow said I could stay, I swear."

"Cut the trash, Travis. We're not here for that," the gerbil that had given him that fake name stepped from behind the deer. Giggling in his arms was…

"Cash?" Duke blinked at the baby who should've been back at the diner. His heart raced as his plan started to come undone.

"Don't make this hard. Give us the recipe and you get your daughter back."

Duke wanted to tear out his fur. "Ya morons are ransomin' my ransom baby back ta me afta' I already ransomed her?!"

"Recipe!" demanded the gerbil.

"I don't got no motherfuckin' recipe! I never did!"

The lioness stepped in, "Calm down, cutie," Duke didn't like the bedroom eyes she was flashing at him. He preferred his broads shorter... and with less fangs. "You're lucky we were the first ones to find you. Every Pickle, Picklle, and Pikel knows the recipe is here and that you got it. We saw it on your commercial."

Duke thought back to the video. He had sat in front of Gideon's computer all night, editing that footage non-stop. He could remember the details of each frame that made the cut. Nothing in there was from Podunk. The props were brought in from Bunnyburrow. The only parts Duke contributed were the script, Cash, and her bottle to shut her up.

Duke's hair stood on end.

The tiny, thimble-sized bottle that the crazy cow had practically forced him to take.

The one heavily weighing in his pocket.

A sense of surrealness took hold as he drew out the tiny bottle and examined it. An almost microscopic flap of what looked like a clear skin caught his attention. He scratched at it with his claw and a hidden layer of plastic slowly peeled off the bottle's surface. It was hardly a centimeter wide and maybe three long. Across it he could spy several tiny lines of nearly unreadable text.

"'Attaboy," the cat purred. Her open paw waited patiently for the strip.

Instinctively, he stepped forward to give her what she wanted. As his arm stretched, something nagged at the back of his mind.

 _Deliver… That's all you do!_

Here he was. Doing what he did best. Exactly like she said.

 _You're nothing!_

Running around for mammals he'd never meet. Pulling off jobs for a life-changing score that he'd never know nothing about.

 _You don't make big complicated plans, you only deliver for them!_

A grunt. Know-nothing. Doing the same legwork over and over for petty cash.

 _Deliver!_

His fist closed around the plastic and he raised the bottle, "Fuck off, hairball!" The tiny container exploded on impact with the grimy street and immediately they were engulfed in a thick, choking cloud. Before he was blinded, Duke memorized where the gerbil was, clenched his eyes shut and reeled back his foot.

If any mammal was looking down that alley at that exact moment, they would have seen a screaming gerbil-shaped missile fire out of a ball of smoke followed by a coughing weasel charge back onto the swamped sidewalk.

"Crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!" Duke's neck strained back as he watched the mammals plummet, "I got ya! I got ya! I got ya!" The furry torpedo plopped right into his paws. He tossed the shaking gerbil into the alley and held onto the hysterically laughing shrew. "Thank God! Alright, let's get ya back ta da diner 'fore cottontail notices you're gone." He faced the diner and saw something that made him sweat.

Fire burning in her eyes, the hellbent copper was hopping atop the mountainous mammals' heads as if they were molehills. And she was coming right towards him. "DUUUUUUUUUUUKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEE!" her warcry, mightier than thunder, echoed across town.

"TRAVIS!" a choked gerbil roared from the dissipating smoke.

"Fuck it!" giggled Cash.

Duke latched onto a nearby passing elephant and scampered up the wide body until he reached the crowded shoulders. Ignoring the annoying bloggers, he scanned the horizon until he saw exactly what he needed. With much less grace than the copper, he lept to a hippo, bounced off his fatty belly and rose high into the air. At the apex of his bounce he grabbed onto the long neck of a giraffe. The added height put him already ¾ of the way up and he immediately began shimmying the rest of the way. Once within earshot he shouted, "Hey, buddy! Yer shoes're untied!"

"Huh?" the giraffe bent down to check his laces, making his tall neck into a long bridge that reached clear across the crowd. Duke was now much closer to the diner than Judy was to him. Using the giraffe's head as a springboard, the weasel launched himself over a few more heads and landed safely in a bush. He scrambled the rest of the way and burst through the diner's back door.

"Gideon, I told you to watch Cash—" Duke nearly bit his tongue as he saw two foxes standing in the kitchen. The smaller of the two was none other than the turncoat.

"Freeze!" he heard Wilde order, but he was already worming his way through the trash cans and diving back into the forest of mammals. The fox had a much harder time pushing his way through the bodies and Duke soon lost sight of him. This time Duke stayed low, so as not to get caught by the blood-hungry bunny above. He eventually passed the ice cream truck and got a rhythm going for the fastest way through the bloggers.

The weasel concluded the best plan was to find some safe place to leave Cash. Maybe like a hospital or a firefighter's station or a dumpster. Then he'd take the briefcase of cash and catch a bus or a zuber or whatever. When, and _only_ when, he was at least fifty miles away, he would send a message on the baby shrew's whereabouts and this shitshow would be over.

He broke free of the mass of bloggers and took three steps before the side of a black sedan halted in front of him. The back door opened and a pair of paws dragged him in. Duke instinctively struggled but, almost immediately after the door shut, his attackers let him go.

"You've given Zootopia's finest quite the chase." Duke looked towards the tired speaker. It was a shrew, not unlike Big. Only this shrew was much older, much grayer. He was surrounded by raccoons in well-tailored suits. "I don't expect you to know who I am, Weasel. Unlike the Bigs, us Clawleones prefer to work in _private_ ," the shrew said as the sedan began to drive.

Duke's heart stopped as he remembered Cash's full name: Judy _Clawleone_ Big.

As if he could sense his distress, Clawleone continued, "We also don't ice. When a mammal needs to be taken care of, we prefer they disappear with our blessing." A raccoon slid an airline ticket into Duke's lap. One way. South. "Your time in Zootopia has ended, Weasel."

The sedan stopped and the door opened. Duke was led out to a field. Nearby stood a crop duster biplane, a bunny pilot already waiting in the cockpit. Its spinning propeller pointed down the long dirt strip that cut through the tall grass.

"We'll take my dear granddaughter off your paws and send you on your way to your new life. As far as I see it, you've taken from the Bigs, not the Clawleones. And for that reason, you may keep your winnings."

Clawleone ended his speech with an expectant look directed at Duke. The weasel himself was still processing what the hell just happened. It flew by so damn fast, he could've sworn he'd gotten whiplash. In a matter of minutes he had went from recreating 'Catch Me If You Can' to a no strings attached ride down South. He was gonna get away with the cash and whatever that stupid piece of plastic in his pocket was worth! He was set!

"Duke."

The world stood still. He felt like a stranger in his own body as he craned his neck down at the baby shrew, clinging tightly to his chest. "I… I told ya not ta say my name in a cute, adorable way," he whispered, surprised at the shakiness in his own voice.

She only held harder and pressed her nose into his fur. She shook her head as if she was trying to say no but the only word that came out was, "Duke."

He tugged on her but just like last night, her tiny claws had tangled themselves into his tufts and she wouldn't budge. He didn't like the way she said his name. It made his heart ache. "Come on, it's time ta go back ta your family—"

"Duke!" she looked up at him, eyes glistening with tears. He then knew… he could never get rid of her unless he did this right.

"I promised Cash I'd get her ta her mama." Duke tossed the plane ticket at the shrew's feet.

"...What?"

"I told her I'd get her ta her mama and dat's what I'm doin'." He turned from the plane and began walking. How he was going to make that happen and keep his life, he had no clue. Then again, _delivering_ was what he did best. He'd figure it out on the way like he always did. He just needed a destination. "Thanks for da offer, but I need ta get ta Tundratown."

"Of all the mammals to pull this off..." the old shrew grumbled behind him, "how did a moron like you survive this long?"

The click of a dozen weapons froze Duke on the spot. He slowly turned to see the raccoons pointing loaded tranq guns at him.

"Hey, whoa! I'm givin' back da kit, I juss need ta give her ta her mama—"

"Li'l Judy ain't seeing her mama. After today, nobody will never see that li'l _mistake_ again." Clawleone's cold, empty eyes pierced from his bored, almost uninterested face. "Same goes for you, Weasel."

 _VROOOM!_

The ice cream truck plowed through the raccoon line! Duke's jaw dropped as he caught a glimpse of the driver. It couldn't be… the damn junkyard shrew! He had found him! Duke had to get away fast before he was roadkill too! He booked it toward the only possible escape: the crop duster. He climbed into the passenger seat and slapped the trembling bunny pilot.

"Fly!"

"What the hell is going on?!"

"We're gonna die, dat's what! Now fly!"

The bunny obeyed, working the controls as best as he could. The plane started down the runway only for several tranq darts to hit the side. Both mammals screamed as the few still standing raccoons opened fire on the aircraft, some even sprinted after the thing. Duke wondered if a few grabbed onto the tail, if they'd be too heavy to get airborne. After what felt like an eternity, the nose lifted and Duke watched the raccoons shrink to the size of mice.

"Haha! So long, suckers!"

* * *

In the field, Donny pushed the brick he had been using on the gas pedal out of the ice cream truck and hopped out of the vehicle. Now out in the open, he locked gazes with the old shrew by the sedan. In those seconds, dozens of emotions were conveyed. Anger, betrayal, disappointment, resentment, rebellion, resignation. The old shrew looked away first, his attention drawn towards the approaching sirens. The raccoons who could still walk piled into the sedan with the old shrew and drove off.

"See ya, Pops," Donny muttered.

Donny walked onto the dirt strip and kneeled, his paws firmly tucked behind his head in surrender. He sighed at the sight of the disappearing plane. A prayer formed in his mind for their safe travel. As the sirens grew closer, a sense of calm warmed Donny's body. There was no anger. Only peace.

It was kind of ruined when the cops arrived and didn't even notice he was there. He had to scream at the fox to arrest him.

The annoyance was worth li'l Judy being safe.

* * *

"I can't feel my foot," said the pilot.

"Whatcha talkin' 'bout?" asked Duke, taking note of the sudden drunken slur in the bunny's words.

"I mean I can't fffffffflllll..." the bunny sluggishly pointed at their leg. There, next to a fresh hole in the fuselage, was a tranq dart. The pilot slumped backwards, out cold.

"Ah… fuck."

END CHAPTER FIVE

 _Next chapter, there's gonna be a whole lot of squealing._


	6. NEGOTIATIONS

_A/N: This one starts funny, but then gets a bit real. Sorry, but we need to take some things seriously._

 **CA$H ONLY  
** _Chapter 6: Negotiation$  
_ By: I Write Big

A plane is designed to glide. The engines are used to provide continuous propulsion and to induce lift. Navigating these forces properly truly comes into play during takeoff and landing. However, once the aircraft has attained proper altitude, as long as there isn't an unexpected pocket of turbulence, flying a plane becomes only slightly more complicated than driving a car. ZAX even has emergency air-traffic controllers specifically trained and assigned to guide airborne citizens who have lost their pilot into a safe landing. This is all dependent, of course, on the mammal in the cockpit maintaining a calm grip on the steering column, also known as the yoke.

Duke did not know this.

"I'm gonna die!" the weasel screamed as he maintained an absolutely not calm hold on the stick-thingy that was supposed to steer this flying metal death trap. He had spent the last half-hour slapping the drugged pilot, but they just kept drooling. "Come on, ya bucktooth, wake up!" He reached over for another slap but leaned a little too far. The flimsy plane dipped to the side and Cash landed on his face and successfully blinded him, giggling the whole way.

"FUCK!"

Duke maneuvered the clinging baby shrew so he could get at least one eye open and jerked the yoke back the other way. The duster shakily righted itself… and then kept going into a spiral! The world flipped over and over as Duke lost complete control. Through the mind-bending sight, Duke could see they were heading right for a mountain!

"NO!"

He wrenched the yoke with all his strength but it was like trying to control a hurricane! The plane hit the mountain peak head on! And smashed straight through…

"What da—" Duke let out before they tore through another easily crumbling mountain. One of the crumbly rocks tumbled into the cockpit and Duke held it up. It was an empty bottle of Phull Muun. These weren't mountains… they were piles of trash!

The plane skidded across a peak of Bugga Burger boxes, bounced off a pile of broken mattresses and rolled on its wheels through a huge box labeled 'fur trimmings'. Eventually, the sticky ground slowed the plane and it came to a gentle stop hanging halfway over the car compactor.

Duke jumped out of the plane with Cash happily clinging to the top of his head and threw his arms up, "I'm alive! HA! I can't believe it!"

"What in tarnation?" gasped a familiar voice.

"Travis! Did ya see dat?" Duke called to the ferret climbing down Maggie the Magnet, "My life flashed 'fore my eyes! Me and Cash were goners for sure!" He blinked as the adrenaline from yet another near death experience subsided enough for him to think clearly for a moment, "Cash!" He dove back into the plane and pulled out the well-earned metal briefcase. "Dere ya are! Did ya miss me?"

"Duke!" cheered Cash.

"Not you!" he rolled his eyes at the brat on his head and then snuggled the briefcase until he heard the baby whimper. He sighed, "Okay, maybe a li'l you. And quit sayin' my name."

Cash giggled and snuggled one of Duke's ears.

"I plum don't believe this," Travis approached, his mouth agape, "You're back."

"Back? Back where?" Duke spun around, "Holy shit! I juss can't keep outta dumps!" He then eyed the ferret, "Ya ain't gonna call da coppers, are ya?"

"Uh..."

Duke raised his briefcase threateningly, "'Cause I juss got paid, almost got whacked and somehow survived a plane crash, in dat order! I'm in no mood for coppers!"

"Alright, alright, no cops. Careful with that. Your last bonk nearly chipped my lucky gold fang," relented Travis while rubbing his matching black eyes. They then both watched as the crop duster tipped over and fell into the compactor. "There ain't nobody still in that there plane, right?"

"Eh, some bunny," Duke shrugged and walked away.

Travis flinched and ran to the wreck.

* * *

Judy hugged her knees. Through her low hanging ears she watched Precinct 1 bustle about. They were all completely unaware of the past hour. Every mammal she accidentally looked in the eye morphed into Duke's wounded face before she could turn away, which filled her with a confusing mix of shame and anger. She tried her hardest to ignore the muffled shouts on the other side of the door. She imagined this was what all those fellow classmates of hers felt when she tattled and got them sent to the principal's for punishment.

At last, the voices stopped. The silence was far worse. The door next to her cracked open and Nick entered her sight. She avoided looking at him before he turned into Duke as well. He said something, probably something comforting, but she wasn't listening. The comfort of his arms around her barely registered in her mind. She slipped out of his hold and went into Bogo's office. The Cape buffalo waited until she sat down.

"Why did you feel it was necessary to break protocol?"

Judy licked her dry lips and went over in her head what happened outside the diner. The chaotic intrusion of the bloggers, the lack of sights on li'l Judy... _his smug grin_ … "Unforeseen circumstances forced us to adapt, Chief."

"Adapt?" She tried to shrink even smaller. He sounded calm but she knew it was just hiding his barely contained temper. She still couldn't bring herself to look at Bogo. "You were there to be the Bunnyburrow expert, to be liaison with local law enforcement, and to advise on the best placement of resources. Not to run in there and lose the kitnapping victim."

She winced as she remembered the plane flying into the distance with her goddaughter.

"Again, why did you feel it was necessary to break protocol?"

She took a shuddering breath, "Because when I looked through that window… You were right, Chief, I was too close."

"To who?"

Memories stopped as Judy finally looked up at Bogo. He showed an oddly untroubled face.

"According to the reports, no mammals spotted Judy except Wilde and only after the operation went awry. So, when you looked through that window, who did you see?"

Duke. His smug grin, flashing back at her. He had never looked more confident. And she had never felt so… betrayed. She scrunched her nose at that unexpected reaction.

Bogo leaned forward, his professional tone shifting to a more understanding one, "There once was a camel who had this _habit_ of stealing the radios out of cars that mammals forgot to lock. Not exactly grand theft auto, but I always seemed to be the one who brought him in, each and every time. I berated him, scolded him like a he was a kit but, in the process, I got to know him. Sound familiar?"

Judy barely nodded, transfixed by what Bogo said.

"He wasn't a bad mammal, most aren't. Some mammals just make a mistake and end up trapped, having to keep making that mistake to survive. In a weird way, I sort of considered him a friend." Bogo's shoulders slumped as if the next part was the hardest to remember. "He stole from the wrong mammals. The kind who wouldn't settle for an insurance payment. He was scared. Alone. And he came to _me_. Begged me to protect him. Said he would become a new mammal and go straight, if I got him out of the city. I arrested him and that's where everything changed. He got worse and worse, and now he's doing life." Bogo stood and came to her side. "There are those we put away and those we try to change. I lost my friend. If given the chance, would you arrest Duke?"

She saw Duke's wounded face, "I already hurt him."

"But did you arrest him?"

Her paws clenched. After she had figured out Duke still had li'l Judy, she had been hellbent on taking him in. But in that moment, in the booth, after he had lied about her being in the kitchen... when she should've grabbed him like the law said she should... it hadn't even crossed her mind.

Bogo's hoof on her shoulder woke Judy from her thought. "I think there's a part of you that wants to see Weaselton go free. To become a better mammal. I think that's why you let him go." His words brought some clarity to her troubled thoughts. She felt a sense of responsibility for Duke, but was that responsibility one of obeying the law or care for another mammal? She and Duke had certainly been through a lot of headaches and she had spent a great deal of time trying to change his ways. Did she somehow consider Duke a friend like Bogo and his camel? There were still many things to work out.

"Hopps, you did what I couldn't and you can still do more."

"More?" she asked with a hint of hope.

"You're still off the case." Bogo returned to his desk and donned his glasses to look over a report. "After Bunnyburrow, it's clear that we need an officer with a level head."

"Oh… of course."

The door was then kicked open by a familiar, smarmy fox. "Which is why Wilde will be taking the lead," concluded Bogo.

Judy could barely believe what she was hearing as an open-mouth smile began to spread across her muzzle, "...Nick?"

"On it, Chief," Nick saluted, "I'll need someone to be in charge of getting my coffee, of course. Very important role. Should go to somebody who knows how I like it." He snapped his fingers in a big eureka moment, "I know! Why not Hopps?"

"Very well," Bogo made note on a clipboard and absently waved for them to leave, "Hopps is not on the investigative team but, officially, is getting coffee for the Big kitnapping case instead."

"I take my coffee black, by the way," Nick leaned on Judy's chair and smirked at the bunny. She then tackled Nick into the most passionate kiss of her life. Well, it was only the second kiss of her life, but it was still pretty amazing.

* * *

"Jeez, I should save your career more often," a starry-eyed Nick said as he wiped the lipstick from his jowls.

Judy walked by his side with a renewed skip in her step. Evidently, Nick had tried to explain to her the reassignment when he first came out of Bogo's office, but she was too into her 'my life is over' trip that she hadn't hear a word. Her depressive state had surprised Bogo when she walked in, expecting a much more excited and eager bunny, and left him scrambling to come up with a way to lift her spirits on the spot. Judy gave him an A-.

"I'm not gonna make a habit of messing this up," Judy folded her arms, "First, we need to track down that plane and then secure li'l Judy's safety."

"Judy, _I'm_ leading the investigation," Nick reminded with a frown, "That means, we go with my lead. First, we need to track down that plane and then secure li'l Judy's safety."

She leveled an unamused stare at him.

He gave Judy another lazy smile, "Which I've already started. ZAX is scouring the skies and grounds for the plane as we speak. Duke won't be able to hide for long. Until then, we should say hello to our mysterious guest."

He opened the door to the interrogation room they usually put Duke in and faced Donny Clawleone. "About damn time! Who the hell designed this chair? It's like I'm sitting on a rock!" demanded the shrew.

* * *

"You're turning yourself in?"

Duke rolled his eyes at the question as he siphoned the gas out of another junked car. This was the fifth one missing its steering wheel. He didn't know much about cars, but he was pretty sure a way to control the vehicle was necessary. He turned to Travis who was struggling to keep up while dragging the drooling bunny pilot behind him on some sheet metal and clarified, "I didn't say dat. I said, da family paid and now I need ta fill my end of da bargain and get Cash back ta her mama."

"Mama!" cheered Cash from her perch on Duke's head.

"Yeah, heard that part, and how do you reckon you'll do that?" Duke was beginning to remember how annoying Travis' accent could be. He scampered to the next car. No gas pedal. "Tundratown is the farthest, northernmost part'a Zootopia. You have to cut through the heart of downtown which is crawling with ZPD." Another car. A wide sedan from the 70's. Nothing missing. Duke could deal with the tons of pink shag carpeting as long is it drove. He thought he had found his ride until he spotted a decoration hanging off the rearview mirror. A little stuffed carrot.

"You know, some of 'em officers came down here looking for you, including this one bunny I used to know..."

Duke was back at the diner. He remembered the hurtful words she spat at him, the veracity with which she had chased him over the mob. It stung. Up until that moment, he thought of Cottontail as another copper. Now, after she had proved him right, he strangely wondered if they could've been pals... He ripped the carrot off the mirror and tore it in half.

He felt Travis place a paw on his arm, "Look, why don't you leave the tyke with me? I can say I found her outside my office. There aren't no cameras, they can't say otherwise. That way she can get home and you can skedaddle."

Duke found himself lightly chuckling as he realized Travis had just suggested doing exactly what his original plan was only a couple nights ago. With a gentle smile, he began pouring the collected gas into the shag carpeted clunker's gas tank. "You're alright, Travis," he patted the ferret's back, glad that there was at least one mammal in this world who was willing to help. "But da last time I trusted Cash with `nother mammal, yer family ended up kitnappin' her right under deir nose."

"You ran into—My family did? Why would any Picklle do that?"

The tiny strip of plastic currently sitting in Duke's pocket suddenly weighed heavier than the still pouring gas canister. The weasel's jaw tightened and his throat dried. He had said too much and if he spoke the wrong word, he could have another Picklle problem on his paws.

As if sensing his distress, Travis leaned forward, searching for a reason for his abrupt silence. "Du—"

"I dunno!" Duke ripped the not fully emptied gas can out of the fuel tank and threw it to the side. Grabbing the briefcase, he dove through the driver's side window and began frantically rubbing exposed wires together. "Buncha maniacs, if ya ask me!"

He sensed Travis' scrutinizing look on him. "Duke, did you… take something from my family?"

"What?! Me? I mean, sure, I'mma crook, but dat's juss rude!" The engine sputtered a couple oily coughs but didn't start. He needed to get out of here before Travis put the pieces together.

"The other day, that was… the Tri-Family Reunion. It's only a day's walk. You went there, didn't you?"

"Never! I ain't never been ta Podunk!" A spark erupted between two wires and at the same time Travis gasped.

"That's where Mama Pikel—and the family's—Dear Lord...you took the—"

VROOOOM! The engine roared to life, drowning out Travis' accusation! Duke put the gear into drive and slammed on the pedal. The slightly deflated tires kicked up grease and propelled the car around the bend and through the already broken fencing. Travis was left staring, wide-eyed, at the trail of smog left in the car's wake.

"Dammit, Duke." Travis grabbed the sheet metal and dragged the drooling bunny towards his shack, "Why'd you have to go and make this complicated?"

* * *

Judy listened patiently outside the interrogation room. As the official Coffee-Getter, she couldn't vent any of the burning questions racing through her head she had for li'l Judy's uncle. She wasn't even allowed past the door. Her only option was to wait in the hall with the door slightly cracked open and let Nick do all the asking. Unfortunately, Nick preferred to take things agonizingly slow. Donny had claimed to have vital info on the case but it felt like half the day had crawled by filled with nothing but small talk, rants about how cold the room was and what kind of coffee Judy should get them next.

She stomped impatiently, "Cheese and crackers, Nick, are you conducting an interrogation in there or having a date?!"

"Who's that?" she heard the shrew ask.

Nick's soothing voice answered, "Li'l Judy's godmother. You can understand how eager she is to hear what you have to say."

"The bunny wondercop? She ain't related to her. She ain't family." Judy's fur bristled at his words. How dare he insinuate she didn't care!

"Doesn't mean she hasn't done everything she could, including nearly getting discharged, to get your niece back. You can trust us, Donny."

There was a pregnant pause. Every second felt like a lifetime as Judy resisted the urge to run in there and demand answers.

"Sorry, I ain't never squealed in my life and I probably won't have the chance to again." The voice she heard had suddenly become solemn, as if she was listening to a shrew on his deathbed. "Don't try to sell me on witness protection or any of that bull. Pops'll make me disappear after this and you can't save me. So, listen and listen good." She heard the click of the audio recorder whir to life. "My name is Donny Clawleone, 29, and when I was a kit, I called 911 in ZAX and said nothing when I sure as hell saw something."

"You saw a crime being committed at ZAX?" Nick's voice pressed.

"No, not there. It was at where we flew from… South."

A shiver ran up Judy's spine. This was significant. She wasn't sure how. Had Duke mentioned South? It was the general direction he was originally heading before he showed up in Bunnyburrow.

"Most mammals don't like making mistakes. Pops don't like admitting he ever does make mistakes. He prefers they go away. I was very young, I didn't understand how the world worked but I already had one younger brother so when the housekeeper showed up with another baby shrew, I grasped that I now had two. Fredo my middle brother and Michael, my little brother. Except, Michael didn't look like us. Wrong fur color, strange nose, floppy ears. He looked like the housekeeper and that made him a mistake. First the housekeeper disappeared, I don't know what happened to her. Then Pops announced we were all going South for a vacation. The whole trip, I wanted to carry baby Michael like I used to carry Fredo. It was my job, I was the biggest brother. But Pops kept me and Fredo away, never let us too close to him. I didn't get why until we showed up at the orphanage. They took Michael inside and came out without him."

Judy held back the tears that were threatening to fall. She covered her mouth to stifle the snivels pushing against her trembling lips. She couldn't imagine such pain. She loved her hundreds of siblings with all her soul. If she had to witness her parents putting even one up for adoption, she was afraid it would break her and she would not be the same bunny in that hall that day.

She turned on her heels and entered. Before Nick could stop her, she lifted the shrew and hugged him tenderly. He was stiff in her grip, not sure how to react, so she whispered, "We're gonna get her back. You're gonna see your niece again."

Donny relaxed in her paws and she felt one claw finally return the hug, "Just find her. I ain't gonna live to see her. You can't protect me."

She squeezed him lightly, "I'm a cop. It is my job to serve and protect and I am going to protect you." There was no choice in the matter. It was her duty and she so desperately wanted him to believe that.

"Ahem," Nick cleared his throat and both saw he was holding the still going audio recorder as far away from their mouths as possible. He gave Judy a proud smile, "Thank you for bringing in that coffee, Judy."

She nodded, signifying that she got the unspoken message. She moved to put Donny back in the chair but found he was stuck to her shoulder almost like he had been slathered in super glue. "Uh, sorry!" He detached from her uniform with a snap and Judy saw his tiny claws retract back into his paws. He looked away with a growl, "Us shrews tend to cling to those we feel... _safest_ with." Those last words brought a slight blush to his face. Judy respectively tried not to coo at how plain precious that was as she backed out of the room.

"As awful as what you saw is, Donny," she heard Nick's voice continue as if nothing had happened, "it's not a crime to give your child to an orphanage. The housekeeper might have some legal claims in the matter, if she is indeed the biological mother. I'm not seeing how this is related to the kitnap—"

"Pops thinks of li'l Judy as a mistake! Don't believe a word he says. He'll act like he's helping you, like he's the best bet you got, and then she'll be gone!"

Testimony and reports whipped through Judy's mind. Every polar bear had turned in their guard routes and proof of movement. Fru Fru recounted the day so many times, she practically had it memorized. Every Big in that house spoke up. The only Clawleones who even offered to help in the investigation were Fredo and now Donny. How had the ZPD missed an entire half of a family never coming forward? If what Donny said was true, then li'l Judy was in far more danger than she thought. Judy never believed she would think this, but she was actually relieved that her goddaughter was in Duke's paws. At least, _he_ didn't want to make her disappear.

"Thank you very much, Donny." Nick sounded like he was wrapping up and raring to get started. "We'll look into Pops. Unless you have anything else you need to tell us..."

There was another pause. This time Judy was resisting the urge to charge down the hall and send Grizzoli and Delgato out to tail any mammal by the name of Clawleone. She heard Donny's tiny claws strumming the table. He was thinking. Considering if there was any last details to give in what he believed to be one of his last days in this world. Judy swore to herself, again, it wouldn't be.

"I wrote to him. I tracked Michael down and I wrote to him. Told him everything: who he was, where he came from, why he was abandoned, _everything._ " Judy sharply inhaled as Michael suddenly had motive. "He's become a very capable shrew. He's a Clawleone, dammit. To pull this off from across the border would be _nothing_!" And now means. Judy's foot thumped uncontrollably as Nick asked the question that was at the forefront of both of their minds.

"Donny, who is your little brother?"

"He's the owner and founder of the Phull Muun brewery. His full name is Michael Hornesto."

* * *

The little red needle kept getting closer to the E with every passing mile. However, Duke was not planning on stopping at any gas stations unless absolutely necessary. He grew nervous with how familiar the highway was getting. It wouldn't be long.

"Cash..." he waited until the baby shrew's face popped into view from above, clinging tightly to his forehead fur, "What we're about ta do is very dangerous. I know dat what we've been doin' da past couple days hasn't exactly been safe, but dis is serious. Ya need ta stay outta sight and keep quiet. Can ya do dat?" She stared blankly back at him as a strand of drool dribbled out and landed on Duke's muzzle. He wiped the disgusting drool off as he grumbled to himself for trying to talk to a dumb baby again.

"Juss get unda my shirt, will ya!" he tugged the neckline of his wifebeater. Cash saw the exposed fur and, surprisingly, climbed to it. Duke felt her slight weight now safely hidden under his clothes. That was half the problem covered. The other half was that, after Bunnyburrow, he had been exposed. Every mall cop, beat cop, and meter maid would have a picture of his mug. He massaged his head as he realized that if he hadn't messed shit up with Travis, he could've used the ferret who had an eery resemblance to him as a fall guy.

His blood ran cold as the car approached the 'Welcome to Zootopia' sign. Over the horizon, crested the majestic skyscrapers he thought he'd never see again. Against the setting sun, the view was glorious. An unexpected wave of nostalgia took hold and he found he could not look away… until his phone began to ring. The screen said 'Unknown'. There was a chance that the ZPD were on the other end and planned to track the call. Duke had seen it done plenty of times in the movies. Perhaps, it was better not to answer, but he did anyway.

"Word is spreading that you are back in town, Duke," greeted a strangely twanged voice Duke felt he hadn't heard in a lifetime.

"H-H-Horn! How ya be—"

"I did not take offense when you failed to appear at the designated spot. Delays are expected and understandable. What is not expected nor understandable is your showcasing of my package online in Bunnyburrow this morning." The weasel nearly bit his toungue. How the hell had Horn heard he was back so fast? Sure, the guy had shown that he kept his ears open but this was ridiculous! "Tell me, Duke, do you intend to return my package?"

There was a pinch where Duke knew Cash was hiding. She had dug her tiny claws even deeper as if she could sense his fear. The words mammals kept using to describe this poor kit. _Package._ Horn always called her a _package_. Duke steeled himself and said, "She ain't a package."

"Excuse me?"

' _Nobody will never see that li'l 'mistake' again,' claimed the old shrew._

"She ain't a package and she ain't a mistake." Duke grit his teeth, "Why can't any of ya juss say her name and call her Cash?!" There was no immediate response. For the longest time, Duke only heard his own rapid heartbeat.

"Her name is not Cash." The sun dipped under the horizon. The little red needle reached the E. The car engine sputtered and died and the car slowed to a stop in the middle of the highway. Duke reacted to none of it. He only looked straight ahead. The briefcase of real cash sat next to him, _packaged_ with the amount which he had decided was worth the life of a baby he had called Cash by _mistake_.

"Though I suppose it is a fitting name, coming from a _thief_ such as yourself."

Duke's voice cracked, "I'm not..."

' _You're nothing but a dirty, wily, little weasel!' shouted Cottontail._

"I'm— I had to..."

' _This ain't never gonna end,' sobbed his dad._

"Duke?" the baby shrew poked her nose out of his wifebeater and he looked down at her. The worry on her face was illuminated by the flickering dashboard lights. He had stolen so much and never once had he cared. It was always justified. They deserved to be robbed. It wasn't too much, just enough to fill his pockets. He needed the cash.

 _So... many... zeroes... under_ _his_ _name._

"What do ya want?! HUH?! Da money?!" Duke roared. The words hurt. Christ Almighty, did they hurt. Horn and his stupid words were making him feel like he didn't deserve what was in the briefcase. Like he was no better than the scum he had been trying to cheat. Like he was no better than the family that didn't want their grandchild. His paws cradled the baby shrew clinging to his fur. He clenched his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to the steering wheel in an attempt to get Horn's words out. "It's way more dan what ya were gonna pay me! You're juss a fancy soundin' asshole on a phone! Dink dat's `nough ta scare me inta givin' ya even one cent? Well, buddy, ya got `nother thin' comin'!" 'Course he was better than Horn and that old shrew. He wasn't going to take a kit over the border. Well... he was at first but he changed his mind! ...After he figured out how to make even more cash out the whole fiasco. Duke banged his on the steering a couple more times in frustration. The pain at last overwhelmed whatever the hell was happening to him and he sat back with the phone still to his ear.

"This was never about the money. That was your only chance."

The line went dead.

As if they were connected with his phone call, the dashboard lights went out and the clunker was finally spent. Duke sat in the dark, listening to the disconnection tone. What had he done? What did this mean? Did he have a hit on him? Was South out of the question? He couldn't live in Zootopia anymore so where else could he go? Bunnyburrow? _Podunk_? He brought up his call history and hit 'Unknown.'

"We're sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service," informed a machine.

He redialed. Same message. Again. And again. And again. He grabbed the briefcase and got out. He marched to the highway's edge. The distant black trees of the wilderness waited. Duke's arm reeled back and pitched the briefcase over the guardrail! It struck a tree trunk and the impact unlatched the container's locks. With a mighty BOOM an explosion of blue liquid erupted from the briefcase, launching it back to Duke's feet. Paint covered bills rained around the weasel. The insides of the case were splattered with cash and bright color.

"Pffffttt! HAHAH!" Duke wheezed at the sight, "Holy shit! How did dat not go off in da plane crash?! Could ya imagine if I was in da clear and I went ta open it up and KABOOM! Dat'd be priceless!" He gripped his stomach and laughed until his sides stung. The echo of his laughter sounded empty to him. He fell to his knees as his hysterical chuckles weakened to whimpers. He picked up one of the many blue rectangles and tried to scrape off the paint. It was once a crisp new hundred, but now there was an unmissable stain across the bill. The paint was probably treated so it would never come out without a certain chemical or something.

It was all dirty and useless.

There was another pinch against his chest fur. The blast must've scared her. He stroked the furball until he felt the pinch go away. Then he felt something else. A pressure against his leg. He reached into his pocket and his paw wrapped around glass. With widening eyes, he pulled out his last bottle of Phull Muun. The one he had stuck in there so long ago.

He smashed it on the road and out fell a couple clean bills. Wiping his his paws on the grass the best he could, he picked up the cash and counted, "Fifty… Fifty-five… Sixty-three. Sixty-three bucks."

He rose to his feet and turned towards the twinkling lights of downtown, still several miles away. Even further, on the clear other side, waited Tundratown. He stuffed his last sixty-three bucks into his pants and began to walk.

"Alright, let's get ya ta mama, _J_ _udy_."

SMASH!

A semi-truck with a large Bugga Burger logo was now engine deep into the trunk of the old dead pink shag-carpeted car. "Agh! My neck! Who the fuck left this car in the middle of the road?!"

Duke decided running was better than walking.

END CHAPTER SIX

 _I wonder how many readers are going to go back to previous chapters and see that each and every single time Donny brought up Fredo he always called him his 'middle brother,' never his little brother. Such a simple detail. Can you find more?_


	7. CONSEQUENCES

_A/N: A review on ZNN? Why, thank you! It's quite the good timing that review came out today. I have a brand new chapter for you all and I purposefully waited until the Infinity War premiere to post it. Why? BECAUSE NOW YOU MUST CHOOSE! INFINITY WAR OR CA$H ONLY! MAKE YOUR CHOICE! YOU CAN'T POSSIBLY DO BOTH!_

 _Now, if you'll excuse me, I'mma go see Infinity War._

* * *

 **CA$H ONLY  
** _Chapter 7: Con$equence$  
_ By: I Write Big

Of the variously sized cells located in Precinct 1, only three were designed for mammals the size of rodents. They were essentially reinforced, knife-proof, wire cages no bigger than Judy's head with a little handle on the top for easy transport. They're kept securely locked behind a steel door on the far end of Holding which is under constant 24 hour surveillance. Despite the multiple layers of security, Judy felt it necessary to personally stand guard at the foot of Donny's cage. The shrew had openly protested the arrangement, but the bunny simply assured him that she was doing her job.

He'd never admit it, but Donny slept soundly that night.

When Nick came to the room the next morning, he found a red-eyed yet still wide-awake Judy at her post. "Witness Protection is here, sleepyhead," he smirked.

"You're signing me up in that?" Donny groaned.

Judy began releasing the restraints that held the cage to the raised platform, "Don't worry, they'll set you up in a safe place where you and your family won't be hunted down."

"I never made no family… Kinda wish I had the guts to try," she heard him mutter. Her paws slowed their work as his words made her tired mind think of Nick and how she always hesitated in going further in their relationship. "Now, after this, the one family I got will wish I was dead."

She shook the thoughts away; she had a shrew to protect, "Li'l Judy is my goddaughter. That makes you and me family. And I want you to live, Donny." She fixed him with a determined look before unlatching the last restraint and hefting the cage under her arm. Ignoring Nick's offers to help carry the thing, she made her way out of Holding. Precinct 1 was eerily empty. The morning shift was only starting to roll in, Briefing wouldn't start for a couple of hours. Judy appreciated the early start. Getting Donny to safety as quickly as possible would put her mind at ease. Not even Clawhauser's happy good morning and offer of fresh doughnuts could get her to relax.

Stepping outside, she and Nick found two professionally dressed raccoons waiting next to a black van: the Witness Protection Agents. Judy instinctively scanned the surrounding streets for any suspicious mammals. The city was still sleeping, not a soul in sight.

"Officers, I'm Agent Scruff. This is Agent Stripes," the first raccoon flashed his badge and the second offered Nick a clipboard. "If you'll sign the witness into our custody, we'll take him to the nearest Sorting Center."

The fox quickly scrawled a pen across the bottom of the form. As he gave it back, Judy noticed his nose twitch and a serious face of contemplation overcome him. "Nick…?" There was a tug on her side. She looked down in time to see Scruff taking Donny's cage from her. As he did, her uniform snapped out of Donny's claws, leaving a small tear in the fabric. Instantly, Judy's ears flopped down against her back. The look on Donny's face as the raccoons calmly walked away with him… It was true fear.

She remembered… shrews cling to those they feel safest with.

"Judy, they..." Nick's nose twitched again.

Donny wasn't safe.

"They smell like shrews."

"Freeze!" Judy ripped her tranquilizer from its holster and fired. The dart struck Scruff square in the leg. Stripes immediately ducked behind Scruff, drew a hidden tranq and shot back. Academy training took hold and Judy scampered across the exposed stairway, looking for a clear shot. Scruff took several more darts and went limp. Impressively, Stripes dragged the heavy shield the rest of the way to the van and jumped in.

"No!" Judy dove after the vehicle but it peeled off. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" The world crawled to a stop as the van got away. Donny's words echoed like a sad, lonely violin.

' _I ain't gonna live to see her. You can't protect me.'_

What happened next was pure instinct. Without thinking, her aiming arm relaxed, angled ever so slightly down and her finger pulled the trigger. The dart flew forward, its sharp needle piercing through the air. There was a loud BLAM and the back right tire was gone! In its place came an eruption of sparks! The van turned a corner and vanished but Judy grinned. She had slowed them down and now they were leaving a trail. This wasn't over.

Her radio crackled, "Abduction outside Precinct 1. Black Growler, 2013, license plate F333TRV. Officer down." The voice was tired, slurred towards the end and she could hear it more clearly coming from the top of the stairs. She ran up them to find Nick laid next the glass front door. She pulled the dart out his shoulder, but she knew it was meaningless, one standard dart could drop any mammal. Nick would be unconscious until the drug worked through his system.

"Are you okay? Did you get hit anywhere else?"

"F333TRV, 2013." He was panting like he had won a marathon, "You go' i'?"

She nodded and took his paw as Clawhauser burst out the door and flagged the approaching ambulance. "Black Growler, 2013, F333TRV, missing one tire."

There was a jingle of metal as Nick's shaky arm dropped car keys into her palm, "'En I 'ake u', you had 'etter've 'igured thish crayshee caysh ow..." Nick's head slumped back and a trail of drool began to pool next to him. Judy marched past the approaching paramedics and the frantic Clawhauser and hopped into her police car. Sirens wailing, she zoomed down the street.

* * *

Duke was in a trance. He had spent the entire night trekking along the highway towards Zootopia. The hike felt like it took forever and the skyscrapers never seemed to get any closer. Just as the sun was cresting the horizon did he arrive at the furthest district still considered part of Zootopia: Furrton. If he cared, he might've commented on how Furrton was one of many mostly suburban towns on Zootopia's edge meant to house the mammals who couldn't afford to live in the city proper. There was nothing to do in these places except eat, shit and catch the train to your meaningless job. Problem was Duke wasn't in the mood. His eyelids were heavy, his feet ached and his pockets were miserably empty. His last sixty-three bucks were clenched tightly in his fist. He missed the weight of the briefcase that had housed his fortune.

That fortune was so quickly taken away from him by the paint bombs. He didn't know what was keeping him going anymore. Without the cash, what was the point? Not only were the ZPD after him, but Horn had made it clear Duke was on his list. And then there were the goddamn Pickles, Picklles and Pikels! Could something go right for a change?!

"Welcome! How may I help you?" a mechanical recording woke him. Duke's tired legs nearly collapsed as he saw he stood before the ticket machine of the Furrton Train Station. He had wandered aimlessly through the town without any mammal stopping him. In fact, there were no mammals here. He must've gotten to the station before the morning rush. With a little hope, he bought a ticket.

Sixty-one bucks left.

The small platform was eerily empty. As Duke peered down the rails that beelined straight to downtown, an automated intercom announced the rush hour express to Tundratown with limited stops would be leaving in five minutes. He stroked the snoozing furball under his wifebeater.

"Morning."

Duke whipped around, expecting an army of coppers, a squadron of polar bear helmed tanks and at least three helicopters! Instead, he saw a panda sipping a coffee.

"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

Duke looked back at the city and hid his face behind a paw. He hoped she hadn't recognized him, "It's fine, don't worry 'bout it. I didn't expect others ta be here so early, is all."

He heard her humm in agreement and take a deep gulp from her cup, "Usually only the nocturnals use this train, but I got an unexpected early call to take care of a huge mess downtown. Had to run out the door."

Duke's pounding headache from lack of sleep was made 1000x's worse by her nasally voice. He nodded and prayed she would shut up. She didn't.

"But I like these bright and early moments. They give you the time and quiet to think, appreciate the beauty of the world, and contemplate just how are you gonna spend the last moments of your life... _Duke?_ "

The fur on Duke's neck stood on end. Did he imagine that? He risked a peek at the panda. She was looking down at him expectantly, as if she was waiting for Duke to get what she meant. It couldn't be… through his hazy head he recalled what she said. She got an early call but from who? Big? Clawleone? Horn?! Was Duke the mess she had to take care of?! Christ Almighty, it had already started! This panda was no panda! She was a hit panda!

"Da hell's wrong wit ya?" Duke demanded, stepping back, "Dis how yous do dis now? Walk up to a poor fella and tell him it's comin'?"

The panda gasped and blushed, "Oh my, did I come on too strong?"

"Whatever happened ta sneakin' up on da guy when he thinks he's safest and puttin' one in da back of his head?! You're a sick 'n twisted panda for playin' wit yer prey!"

The panda's blush deepened and she proceeded to babble, "Gah! How did you know I fantasize about Pred/Prey Play?"

"...Da fuck ya talkin' 'bout?"

"I mean, I always imagined I would be the prey but never the pred! Maybe I could play the pred but I would be so weird at it!" Duke was beginning to suspect he had gotten the wrong idea about this panda. Thankfully, the express train then halted before them. As leopards, ocelots, tasmanian devils and various other nocturnal mammals piled out, the panda's embarrassment suddenly vanished and was instantly replaced with confidence. "You're right! We must spend every day as if it were our last and experience all that life has to offer! My body is ready! Let's do this, Mr. Weasel!"

The train doors shut with Duke onboard and the strange panda still on the station platform. The train took off. Duke watched houses whizz by in abstract horror. He didn't know what the hell just happened and he didn't want to think about what the hell just happened.

"Duke!" li'l Judy popped her head out and gurgled hello.

"Oh, dat was you who said my name? Christ Almighty, Judy, keep yer trap shut or you'll get me caught." Since his... _breakdown_ over the phone with Horn last night, he'd made it a point to call her Judy instead of Cash. It eased the headache. He patted the baby shrew and tucked her back into her hiding spot. It wasn't really necessary, since they had the entire train to themselves, but Duke didn't want to take anymore risks. All he wanted to take was a comfy seat and let this machine carry him straight to Tundratown.

Well, it had to stop at Zootopia Central first, but after that it would be smooth sailing.

* * *

"They're going into Zootopia Central! I need back up!" was the update Judy gave over her radio before she bolted past the abandoned and smoking Growler and charged towards the train station. The morning commute was just now getting started so she only had to dip and dive between a couple of hippos. The stripped tail of the ironically name raccoon was a shining beacon for the bunny.

She soared over the turnstyle, "Sorry, I'll pay for my ticket later!" she called back to the angry moose security guard.

Stripes toppled baggage and tripped mammals in his wake to try to slow her down but his efforts only left breadcrumbs for the unstoppable Judy Hopps! She pumped her legs harder and closed the gap! With one last mighty leap, she tackled the raccoon!

Unfortunately, her rescue attempt launched Donny's cage out either of their grips and the the shrew was thrown down the platform. At this same exact platform, a train came to a brief stop and opened its doors.

"Donny!" Judy gasped as the cage slid into one of the train cars.

The distraction was enough for Stripes to elbow her chin and break loose. He scrambled after the cage and she after him. They both ran onboard right before the train automatically shut its doors and took off.

* * *

Duke concluded that he was seeing things. He had to be seeing things. There was no other explanation for why a tiny little wire box bounced into his train car followed by Cottontail wrestling a raccoon. Duke then figured he obviously needed some shut-eye because inside that random box was the crazy shrew who wanted to kill him. Maybe it was a mirage. That totally made sense.

"Uh… my head...wait...Weasel?" the mirage noticed him.

Li'l Judy poked her head out again and cheered at the mirage, "Unky!"

Duke had to admit his brain was doing quite the impressive job of giving this mirage such a realistic rage-filled face with an unquenchable thirst for destruction. Plus, the full-body holds Mirage-Cottontail was putting that raccoon through were pretty complicated. Must be thanks to all the movies he watched.

"I turn myself in…" the mirage shrew snarled, "become a _squealer_ and you bring her back here to Pops' doorstep?! YOU IDIOT!" The shrew rammed his cage, pushing it closer to Duke. He grabbed one of Duke's legs and bit hard.

"GAAAHH! This is real!" shouted Duke. He tried to pry the cage off but this allowed the shrew to latch onto his arm and make his deadly paper cuts! "HELP!"

Judy, who had Stripes cuffed to a leaning pole, perked her tall ears at the yell, "...Weaselton?"

"IT'S WEASELT—...Oh wait, ya got it right." BONK! Duke's vision went blurry after the cage connected with his skull. The shrew had somehow gotten Duke's paw trapped in the cage and was using the momentum of jumping against the box's walls to force the weasel to punch himself with the metal boxing glove. BONK! "Pop goes the weasel~!" Duke deliriously sang as he saw stars.

"Donny, stop it!" Cottontail tried to get a firm grip on the cage but Donny wasn't listening.

"All ya had to do was stay out of the city!" BONK! "Where Pops couldn't find her!" BONK! "And your dumb ass couldn't even do that!" BONK! With every strike, Duke stumbled further backwards until he reached the door connecting to the next car ahead. His tail hit the access button and the door swished open. "Why the hell did you bring her back to Zootopia?!" BONK! A mean uppercut sent Duke sprawling onto his spine partway into the next car.

Duke wheezed as Cottontail pressed her full body weight on the cage against Duke's stomach. She finally had the shrew secured. No more smacks. But the questions the shrew had asked remained. As the three caught their breath, Duke tried to find his answer.

"I'm givin' her back."

The shrew and Cottontail looked down at him in confusion. Duke was pretty confused too.

"What's wit da looks? Dey paid what I asked so I'm… I'm givin' her back. So what if I lost da cash? Dat's not her Mama's fault."

"Mama!" came a chirp from his shirt and li'l Judy crawled up Duke's nose. She eagerly looked side to side for her mama as Cottontail gasped at the sight of her. One of her bunny paws lifted from the cage and slowly reached out towards the baby shrew. A shaky smile spread across Duke's muzzle. This nightmare was over.

"Ya think… ya think juss `cause I made a mistake dat I'm gonna ask fer more? What do I look like ta ya? A bank?"

Suddenly, Cottontail's ears cocked nearly a 180 degrees and her pupils shrank. She belly flopped, smushing even more air out of Duke's gut, and a dart flew over their heads. The bucktooth immediately ran back into the train car. Duke weakly raised his aching head. He saw the copper fighting with the cuffed raccoon over a tranq gun the jackass must've had hidden on him. There was no way in hell Cottontail was gonna lose to this chump. Duke was sure of it. But that didn't mean he couldn't help. After all, he had a metal box for a paw that threw a good punch.

With as much dexterity as he possessed on his worst drinking binges, Duke dragged himself to his feet and leaned against the doorframe. There likely wasn't a chance that he would get out of this without going to jail. Might as well go out a hero.

"Whoa, Weasel, what are you doing?" the shrew asked as Duke raised the cage to punching level and stepped towards the struggle. "There's no floor there!"

Duke looked down and saw speeding train tracks, "HOLY CRAP!"

Cottontail knocked Stripes out cold and saw Duke's car getting further away, "Cheese and crackers!"

Li'l Judy giggled at the sight of big Judy's car getting farther away from their car and proclaimed, "Fuck it!"

Following the locking mechanism that held the cars together, Duke found a lone tranq dart had hit the lever and unlatched the cars. He looked back at the disappearing car to see Cottontail at the doorway, looking like she was figuring out whether she could make the jump. At this distance, he wouldn't take the chance, even with bunny legs. She seemed to think the same and stomped her foot in frustration. Crazy ideas came to Duke. Maybe they could make a bridge with the chairs! What about magnets? Ooh, Duke could throw li'l Judy!

"Did you mean it?" Her call was barely heard over the relentless winds. She watched him with an intense judging glare, "Are you really taking her home?"

Astonishment coursed through his veins. Where was this going? Why did he feel like he knew where this was going? Did he see it in a movie? Duke nodded.

She folded her arms and sighed. Then she said three words Duke never thought she'd ever say to him, "I trust you."

Duke's throat went dry, "WHY?!"

"Yeah, why?" agreed the shrew.

"Yesterday, I was a li'l, dirty, wily weasel and today ya trust me? I ain't ya pal!"

"And I'm not your enemy." The annoying Cottontail only sat in her train car, dangling her feet off the edge, and shrugged. "Not much choice. I'll meet you there." She pulled on something in her car. It must've been the emergency stop because the wheels below her screeched and grinded against brakes. Her car's speed at last waned and she was left far behind. Duke watched her go, eyes locked on her resolute face, hoping to catch another hint that would explain her sudden faith in him.

"I know she saved my fur, but… talk about dumb bunnies, am I right?" the shrew grumbled. Duke ignored the cage his bruised and battered paw was trapped in and sat down. The tiny prisoner picked some of Duke's fur out of his teeth, "You say you're gonna give my niece back but I don't trust so easily. Consider me your escort." The general threats the shrew made went past Duke's ears. He was vaguely aware of li'l Judy scampering down his arm to the cage and snuggling the other shrew she called 'Unky'. Normally he would make cynical gagging noises at the affectionate display. However, the only thing he could think about was what Cottontail said.

"Dis feels… weird," Duke managed to put into words.

The shrew stopped making stupid faces at li'l Judy and raised an eyebrow at him, "What does?"

"Dis! Dat!" Duke frantically pointed towards the long departed train. "Mammals trust me ta pull of jobs, grab da goods, make a run fer it. Coppers don't… It feels… weird in… in here." His free paw patted his chest where a tightness gripped stronger than any of Big's polar bears.

The shrew nodded in understanding, "Yeah, that bunny seems to have that effect." A lecherous smile crossed his face, "Being honest here, cop or not, if she was a li'l shorter, I'd go for it."

"Unky!" cackled li'l Judy.

"Whaaat?" he playfully asked.

Duke actually chuckled at that, "Unky?"

The playful tone immediately shifted to an angry warning, "That's right. Uncle Donny, Unky. So what? You wanna fight about it? `Cause I'd win."

A WHOOSH interrupted Duke's awesome comeback which he was absolutely not too scared to say. A wall of white caked the windows and some powder poofed through the still open door. The air around them chilled and the three saw their breath fog. The intercom welcomed them to Tundratown.

Within minutes, the train hissed to a stop. Keeping the cage hidden behind his back, Duke was able to slip by the crowd of mammals too busy gawking at the train missing its back half. He stepped out of the station and ducked into the closest alleyway, nearly slipping on the ice covered streets.

"Okay, I don't think casually waltzin' down da sidewalk wit a hamster pen for a paw is dat smart," Duke started.

Donny took a firm hold of Duke's trapped paw, "Figure it out, Weasel. You and my niece ain't leaving my side."

A coat could be the answer. A heavy one out of the garbage could cover everything up and then maybe a Zuber driver in need of five stars could give them a lift. As Duke made his way to the dumpster, he heard the hiss of heavy brakes behind him. At the alleyway entrance idled a dark green dump truck. The color was strange, Duke noted. Didn't exactly match the snowy winter wasteland the district was going for. Then the driver door opened.

"Duke!" called the driver.

"Is that your twin?" asked Donny.

"Travis?" The film in Duke's pocket suddenly felt heavy and he climbed the dumpster so he could scale the alley wall. Before he could reach the ledge, arms wrapped his legs tightly.

"Consarnit, Duke, stop! I'm here to help ya!"

"Fuck dat" he tried to kick out of the ferret's hold, "Yer afta' dat film or recipe fer pickles or whatever yer family does!" His one set of claws wasn't enough to drag himself up and he was instead pulled down to the ground. Travis held him still and looked him straight in the eye.

"Now you listen here! Ya ran off 'fore I could tell ya I don't give two flicks of a tail 'bout all that gobbledygook!" The combination of the messy word choice and intense shouting stunned Duke. He didn't resist as he was pulled to his feet and the ferret dusted him off. "I offered my help back at Skoll Canyon and I still am offering. You've had enough troubles. I'm driving you the rest of the way and that's that."

* * *

The muffled shouts of questions and clicks of cameras could be heard over the phone. Judy imagined Precinct 1 was surrounded by reporters demanding comments on the shootout that morning. Poor Clawhauser sounded like he was sweating. "Yes, yes, Judy, I've let them know to re-route track 7 and Nick is in stable condition. Oh Judy, what is going on out there? I feel like I'm on display here at the front desk. I might need to change into my spare uniform."

"Don't worry, Clawhauser," she kicked her hanging legs eagerly. "I'm gonna give them something else to write about. Send a convoy to pick my raccoon perp up and take me to Tundratown. We're about to wrap this kitnapping case with a heartwarming bow."

She waited for him to pass the order to dispatch. "They're on their way. Also, that guy you put in an inquiry about last night, Judy? We already got a hit. He's dead."

Her legs froze. "...Say again?"

"I'm sending it to you now."

Her phone rumbled and she opened the attachment. An article of the South Times showed a prominent headshot of a shrew who resembled Donny but with odd ears. Over his face was the headline: 'Legendary Entrepreneur dead at 27.'

"There was a shrew by the name of Michael Hornesto down South and he was the founder of the Phull Muun Brewery. According to his obituary, though, he died a few weeks ago."

Judy's foot thumped in the air. This was supposed to be their mastermind, their big kahuna, the mammal for which Duke was the delivery guy. And he was dead. DEAD! How was this possible? Who else had the means?! The motive?! The resources?! WHO?!

* * *

"I knew them dump routes would get me here quick, but I didn't think I'd make it in time," smiled Travis as he steered the truck down the slick road. "Could've sworn that there Catillac you hotwired would get ya where ya needed to go."

"Uh, yeah… dat hunka junk broke on me." Duke explained while pinching his nose. The stench in the driving cabin was driving him mad. How could anyone do this for a living? Donny and li'l Judy were having the same smell problems. From the time they were making though, the stench was worth it. They had passed multiple ZPD patrol cars without a care already. Duke couldn't believe his luck, he'd be at the Big's in no time and li'l Judy would get back to her mama and then he'd sneak away without any mammal being the wiser.

"Travis, I'm sorry, it's just dese pass couple days have been shitshow afta' shitshow. I really appreciate what yer doin'. Yer a true pal."

"D'aw, shucks, Duke. T'ain't nothing."

"The fuck is wrong with you?"

The weasel and the ferret looked down at the shrew still trapped in the cage. He was giving Travis the hardest stinkeye Duke had ever seen.

"What'cha say li'l fell—"

"You heard me! What's your angle?" If Donny wasn't stuck, he'd have probably climbed Travis' fur and gotten real close with that inspective glare. Duke placed a paw on the cage as if he might need it to hold the shrew back. "I heard enough to figure out you're going against what your family wants to help this nobody."

Travis kept his sights on the road, his paws on the wheel. Duke decided that was enough, "Hey asshole, let off, will y—"

A jump against the cage wall sent the box into Duke's gut. The shrew continued with a growl, "Betraying your family takes a whole lot out of ya, ferret, I should know. And I don't see your heart breaking. What's your angle?!"

Duke heard Travis' paws wring the wheel, "That there recipe is nothing but trouble. The darn thing's brought my family only misery."

"Yeah? Then why ya driving _away_ from Big's mansion?!"

Duke flinched. The part of Tundratown they were going through was, he suddenly noticed, unfamiliar. There weren't any clusters of buildings in any direction. No road signs, electrical poles, just a long stretch of road and white mounds to the horizon. He turned to Travis for some kind of explanation.

Travis didn't look at him, he just kept driving. "I-I'm taking a shortcut."

"Bullshit! You want whatever the hell this recipe is." Another jump and Duke was wrenched forward. The cage was now propped on the dashboard where Donny and Duke could look right at Travis

"I don't want that—"

"Ya sure?" Donny pressed his nose through cage wires.

Duke tried to grab the shrew, "Hey, enough—"

Donny kicked the paw away, "Shut your mouth, Weasel! You're clearly too stupid to see when you're being played! This ferret is running circles around you!"

"I'm here to help..." whimpered Travis.

"Help? Who? Yourself? Bet that recipe will still catch ya a pretty penny!"

"Calm yourself, Michael! This was never about the money!"

There were no more shouts from Donny. No more accusations. Because for a sentence, only one sentence, Travis' irritating country bumpkin jibber-jabber broke. It took on an accent with a suave educated air that Duke knew well. The sentence that accent spoke was the same sentence that had been echoing in the back of Duke's mind since the night before...

' _This was never about the money…"_

On that stretch of highway, over the phone…

' _Calm yourself, Duke...'_

When somehow, in a matter of hours, his drive back to Zootopia was discovered by...

The garbage truck slowed to a stop and the ferret at the wheel picked at his lucky golden fang. He heaved a weary sigh and regarded Duke with a look that could only be described as... _blank_.

Empty.

Devoid.

 _Blank._

Gone was the over-expressive, theatrical grin. The only thing left was…

Horn.

"You are truly a remarkably incompetent thief, Duke Weaselton."

Wheezing coughs escaped Duke's clenched windpipe. He shrunk back against the door, the chilling glass added to the shivers running along his spine. Donny tumbled in his cage from Duke's movements, "Whoa, whoa, what's happening here? How do you know Michael? What's with the plantation owner act?"

"Y-Y-Y-You? Horn? Ya sent me South?"

"I never sent you South, that was your intended destination from the start." Horn cut the engine and pulled out the keys, never looking away with that _blank_ stare. "I simply gave you a package and a vehicle and sent you on your way with my blessing. Paw to God, I never believed you would make your way to the border. From your past employment, I was convinced that the skills to accomplish such a feat were not within your arsenal."

"Seriously!" Donny pressed, "The hell is going on? The fuck's wrong with this ferret?!"

Maintaining the offputting _blank_ look, Horn reached under his seat and drew a tranq.

Duke nearly bit his tongue in haste as Horn pointed the weapon at him, "Ya—wait—ya _wanted_ me ta fuck up?"

"Wanted? Duke, I _expected_ you to fail phenomenally! Correctly, if I may point out. You wholly went off track and your unique brand of chaos managed to keep the eyes of all parties concerned off my preparations. For that you have my gratitude. As I said, you've weathered more than enough troubles." Rather than fire, Horn jabbed his arm forward and nicked Duke's arm. It wasn't a full dose but Duke felt numbness consume the slight pinch and slowly spread across his limb. "As such, and in light of your rather ridiculous notions of honoring a deal, I shall take matters into my own paws." Horn then reached forward and grabbed the sniveling li'l Judy on Duke's head. He pulled and Duke fell over. "What the…?" He pulled again and Duke was dragged up.

"DUKE!" cried li'l Judy.

From what little nerves he had left, Duke was groggily able to tell that li'l Judy had her little dagger claws threaded into his head fur and wasn't letting go. She must've been in there deep because no matter how hard Horn shook, she wouldn't budge.

"DUKE!" she cried again.

With a grunt, Horn kicked open his door and lugged Duke's body out with him. Duke couldn't even feel the snow under his fur as he looked up at the grey sky. He desperately wanted to twist his neck to see where they were but those muscles were gone. They went down an incline and Duke could see the dump truck parked on a bridge over them. Throughout it all he heard Donny's loud protests and screams. Did no mammal see them? Where were they?

BLAM! BLAM!

There was a thick cracking noise and Duke was spun to face the churning water under a fresh hole shot in the river ice. Donny's cage was shoved next to the hole and Horn held it in place with the pointed tranq. "I do believe Big refers to this as being 'iced,' creative and easy to implement. I haven't the time nor the patience. Make the little one let go."

"Shove it up your ass!"

The threats Donny threw back at Horn didn't let up. Duke could see the stress building in Horn's blank eyes. The guy was used to getting what he wanted and fast. The way he was holding his tranq, this shrew was gonna push him over the edge and then they'd both go for a swim.

Duke dragged his heavy tongue across his rubbery lips and muttered, "Judy…" The little paws shuffled forward until her tiny head poked into view, "Listen… You're off ta Great Places… Today is your day… Your mountain is waitin'... So, get on your way." Like a spell, his words made drowsiness come over her and the claws weakened. He slumped from her hold and collapsed into the snow.

The argument between Horn and Donny ended. Duke heard the ferret walk away as Donny roared for him to come back. His arm was jerked as Donny tried jumping against the walls to force them to climb the riverbed. Every few feet, though, they'd slide down some slush and have to start over. Duke wished he could help but he was struggling to keep himself awake at this point. There was a thunk and they stopped sliding towards the river. Hazy ideas that the cage had caught on a rock or something drifted across Duke's mind until he realized he was looking up at Travis...no...Horn standing on the bridge, _blankly_ peering down at them. So many questions presented themselves. Horn wasn't after the money? The recipe? He didn't even need the baby across the border? Then what the hell was he after?

Duke's jaw barely cracked open and he breathed out, "I... don't... under... stand..."

At last, Horn's _blank_ expression was broken by an amused smirk, revealing his golden fang that gleamed in the daylight, "If a neanderthal could piece together my motives, I would not have hired one."

Horn aimed his tranq at something above them and fired. There was the sound of Donny cursing and what sounded like shifting blankets and then a wave of snow entombed Duke head to toe. Dozens, there had been dozens of movies Duke had seen where a character was buried alive. Most died. Only main characters survived but those were movie rules. Thing was... Duke didn't remember any movies where the buried character was also hopped up on depressants. They usually had a tool of some sort or training or contact with the aboveground. Duke had nothing except bruises, cuts, and a paw stuck in a cage.

It was getting harder to think. His mind was swimming through a thick fog and his body for some reason felt warm and cozy. Wow, morphine was great. Nothing mattered anymore. He had forgotten how relaxing being able to not care about shit was. Too bad he was gonna die. At least he wouldn't be able to feel himself freeze to death.

The rumble of the dump truck's engine grew faint and Duke's eyelids got heavy. He didn't know if he was slipping into a drug-induced slumber or a hypothermic coma…

...

...

...

...

...

...

..

..

..

..

..

..

.

.

.

.

.

"HEY!"

Duke's eyes shot open as the world shook. Something massive encircled his entire body and lifted him high into the air. His useless neck slumped backwards and he saw the grimace of the earplug wearing polar bear holding him. The bear extended one of their thick fingers and gave his skull some support, tilting his head back down until he saw the lady-shrew in the bear's other paw. She glared at Duke with a righteous fury on level with an erupting super-volcano.

Duke gulped and the saliva drooled out of his numbed mouth, "...Mama..."

"I found him, Judy. Now get here before I kill him," she hanged up her phone. "WHERE'S MY BABY?!"

END CHAPTER SEVEN

 _The clues:_

END OF CHAPTER THREE: 'The corners of Horn's lips tugged upwards until his LUCKY GOLDEN FANG was gleaming in the TV's reflection.'

FIRST SCENE OF CHAPTER SIX: "Your last bonk nearly chipped my LUCKY GOLD FANG," relented Travis...


	8. WITHDRAWALS

_Sorry for the delay. I may write big but I also write slow!_

 **CA$H ONLY  
** _Chapter 8: Withdrawal$_  
By: I Write Big

Pain is an illusion.

The concept known as pain is nothing but a word used to describe the electrical signals that rush through the body to tell the brain it should stop doing whatever the hell is causing that very signal. Legends speak of mammals in the Far East who have, through decades of meditation, mastered the art of blocking pain from their minds. This doesn't serve any purpose other than to allow these Masters to regularly sit on hot coals for no discernible reason. Maybe to show off to tourists. In his tranq fueled Nirvana, Duke truly believed he had reached that fabled level of enlightenment.

"Wake him up!"

There was a slight pressure on his chest but Duke didn't give a shit. Giving a shit was a pain and pain is an illusion. Such trivialities didn't matter in the grand scheme. That pressure on his chest was kinda getting prickly though... As if that heavy something was not on his chest, but rather _in_ his chest… like, literally _inside_ his chest… Was that an illusion too?

...

Nope, there was definitely something in his chest. And it was pouring into him searing hot fire! Pain is real! PAIN IS REAL!

"GAH!" screamed Duke as his eyes ripped open.

"`Bout damn time!" a squeaky voice said. "How ya enjoying the pick-me-up?"

His heart pounded so hard and fast against his ribcage that Duke feared he was going into cardiac arrest! His nerves were so heightened that he could feel every individual strand of his fur bristle and that just made his skin itch like crazy! His neck snapped around until his muzzle pointed down at the Epi-Pen still stabbed into his sternum like a knife. The urge to faint at the disturbing sight straight out of a Pup Fiction was overpowered by the adrenaline the needle had pumped into him.

Then he unexpectedly yawned.

"Huh, guess there's still some tranq in ya system, Weasel-boy."

Christ Almighty, did that voice hurt. It was worse than claws on a chalkboard while a laughing hyena huffed helium. He moved to cover his ears but his arms didn't seem to want to listen to him. Duke's head swiveled towards the painful voice but then lost control and tipped to the side. Somehow his skull had gotten ten times heavier.

"Oh jeez, this one's a riot. I'm in no mood to play. Hold him."

Duke struggled against the massive weight, barely swinging his neck back and forth to roll his cranium like a teeter-totter. The room flipped in and out of focus like a badly shot B-Movie - something must be wrong with his eyes - but he got the idea he was laying on a table in a dark and very cold room. The gentle ocean gurgling in his head told him that this was fine. The rapidfire rocket going off between his lungs disagreed. They both seemed to agree the wire box attached to his wrist where his paw should be was strange.

What was he doing here? What was he doing before he got here? It was all so blurry… At last he spied his captor. Standing over him was a disinterested polar bear in a nice suit. Didn't exactly match the voice. "Hey! I said, hold him!" that squeaky source of sorrow ordered. The polar bear plucked out one of the earplugs he was wearing and looked down at something Duke couldn't see. "Hold him in place like ya did before!" The polar bear nodded, replugged his ear and grabbed Duke's head. The gargantuan paw gingerly turned him until Duke was looking at… a shrew.

There was a nagging flicker that told Duke he knew this lady shrew with the big hair. The ocean in his head totally agreed because all mammals are connected in one beautiful family. The rocket in his chest evolved into a multi-detonating firework. There was an importance to this shrew and Duke knew what that importance was, he was just too high to remember.

Needle claws threaded into Duke's nose hair and pulled tight, "You were too tranqued out when I asked this earlier, Weasel-boy, but this time, I wanna straight answer. WHERE'S..." the claws wrenched tighter and a tear trickled down Duke's jowl. "MY..." she pulled him closer and he saw manic anger flashing across her face. "BABY?!" A pawful of nose hairs ripped out and there was pain! So much pain!

Howling like a wolf, Duke's brain breached the ocean's surface and gasped for breath as memory after memory came rushing back to him like a hot kiss at the end of wet fist! Bootlegging! Puma Usher! Love Comes Fur Me! Wipe your record clean! Horn! South! Cash! Travis! Crazy shrew! Pickle! Picklle! Pikel! Recipe! Train! Bunnyburrow! Gideon! Ransom! Commercial! Cottontail! Pickle, Picklle, Pikel again! Clawleone! Plane! Travis! Horn! Another train! Half a train! Cottontail again! Crazy shrew again! Travis! Horn! TRAVIS! HORN! TRAVIS-HORN!

...Li'l Judy.

He had fucked up.

Duke coughed and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. After days on the run, he had made it practically to the Big Mansion doorstep and then fucked up. He made the stupid mistake of trusting the one mammal who was nice to him. Then again, how the hell was he supposed to know Travis and Horn were the same mammal? That was lamer than a Shyama-llama twist! Where was the slow build up? The clever clues? What was this, a soap opera?! Better question: what the fuck is happening? He was tranqued... and left buried in the snow to freeze… He was dug up and taken somewhere warm, uh… warmer. But by who? With what miniscule control he had, he narrowed his sights on the shrew.

She was who he came to deliver for.

She was Fru Fru.

Mama.

"Oh, ready to talk now? Good. Daddy made this look hard," Mama dropped the nose hairs with a confident grimace that could intimidate Mayor Lionheart. It only made Duke give her a slack-jawed smile. She was the shrew he had been searching for and she was Big's daughter! This tiny shrew had an arctic army at her beck and call that was dying for a weasel to give them a target! He had zero clues what Travis-Horn-Whatever was really after but that didn't matter anymore! All that mattered was Duke could tell Mama where her baby was!

"Glalwlihhh…"

For the longest time, no mammal uttered a sound. That was not the dramatic moment Duke had imagined.

"Glalwlihh!" repeated Duke. His mouth was numbed to paralysis. Sounds moaned and groaned out of him like a blind drunk but they sounded like gibberish.

"What the hell are ya saying?" Fru Fru demanded, "Glossyric?"

"Glalwlihh!"

"Claw it?"

"Ah! Glalwlihh!"

"Growlith? The Pokemon?" guessed a new voice from down near Duke's paws.

"Fredo, I got this!" Fru Fru called down to the other voice. "Ya just keep trying to wake your brother."

"I'm am, but when Donny plays dead, there's no tellin' when he'll get up. Could be minutes, could be hours."

She dragged a frustrated paw through her fur as Duke tried to smack his lips and managed to spray spit everywhere. "Give him another shot!"

Nothing happened.

"Hey!"

The polar bear holding Duke in place let go, presumably to pull out one of those deafness-preventing earplugs, and gravity pulled Duke's super heavy skull back around until he saw the cage holding that crazy shrew Donny. Next to it sat a guy shrew. He gave Duke a kind wave.

"Hey there, how you doin'? Name's Fredo. Hope my wife isn't givin' you too much trouble, but we are lookin' for our kit, you know. Can I get you somethin' to eat? You thirsty?"

If Duke's jaw wasn't hanging like a limp noodle over the table edge already, it would've dropped to the floor. Never had Duke met a nice shrew. Not to sound speciesist but violent and mean were to shrews as fluffy and cute were to bunnies. Only exception was li'l Judy but she was still a baby. This shrew before him, though, glowed with genuine affection and morality. It made Duke want to puke.

Fredo pulled out a tiny silk handkerchief and proceeded to wipe the drool off Duke's cheeks, "Here, you got a little somethin'." Fru Fru jumped into view and pushed the handkerchief away.

"What are ya doing, Fredo? Don't be nice to this trash! He took our baby!"

"Aw, I'm sorry, Snookums. I only thought he might need some comfort because you were doin' such a good job scarin' him."

She giggled like a young school shrew, "I was?"

Fredo wrapped his arms around Fru Fru and dipped her romantically, "The way you were screamin' into his face when he was still drugged, I've never seen you more beautiful."

"Klilghh Alliegee!" Duke swore. Thankfully, he was rolled away from the disgusting sight and faced the polar bear again. In their paws was a fresh Epi-Pen, its needle gleaming in the dim light. The multi-detonating firework upgraded to a never-ending howitzer! "Glalwlihh! Glalwlihh! Glalwlihh!"

The shrews continued their conversation near his ear. "You sure that's smart, Snookums? Those shots are meant for bears as big as Koslov. I'm surprised the first one didn't kill him."

"Ya leave the worrying to me, Fredo. Let him have it!"

Nothing happened.

"Hey!"

The polar bear plucked out an earplug "Hmm?"

"Don't 'hmm' me! The hell ya think I was saying? Let him—"

There was a knock-knock-knock. "Sweetie, ya down there?" Every mammal in the room froze, except Duke.

"Glalwlihh!"

"Shut him up!" At Fru Fru's orders, something thick and distinctly sock-shaped was stuffed into Duke mouth. Without the muscle dexterity to spit out the wad of sweaty cotton, Duke could only pray that his sense of taste didn't return soon.

He heard the bear carry the shrews up a set a stairs and Fru Fru's sickenly sweet voice sounded from above, "What is it, daddy?"

"Hopps is here. She said ya was waitin' for her."

At this point, Duke's ability to feel a chilling ball of icy dread drop into the pit of his stomach returned with a vengeance.

"What are ya doin' down there by the way, sweetie?"

"Keepin' Fredo company, is all. Don't mind us, Daddy."

Duke heard the door slam and an extra pair of feet returned down the steps, "Weselton?"

"Eeshldin!"

Cottontail popped into his view, showing equal parts concern and shock, "What did you—Why are you—Cheese and crackers!" She yanked out the Epi-Pen. That hurt much less than Duke expected. Then she took the sock from his mouth and used it to staunch the blood seeping out of his chest. "Bandages!" she demanded.

"S-Sorry, don't got any, officer," Fredo shrugged, "This is more of a torture basement."

Cottontail pressed a finger to his neck and growled, "Why are you torturing him? His heart rate is through the roof! I could arrest you for this!"

"Hey!" scoffed Fru Fru, "I was tryin' to find my baby! Ya lucky I didn't bring him to Daddy. He'd have already iced this weasel three times!"

Through the numbness, Duke felt the pressure from Cottontail's paws lessen. He saw her anger soften, "He didn't have… li'l Judy?"

"He was on the South edge of Tundratown, buried under a bridge, drugged out of his mind like a homeless bum..." Fru Fru continued on and on about the disgusting state Duke was found in but neither he nor Cottontail listened. He instead stared back at her searching gaze that seemed to be trying to read his weary face. Duke never thought he would ever feel the need to apologize to a copper but that's exactly what was happening. Without any of his lies or tricks, this mammal had trusted him. Actually trusted _him!_ And he went and fucked it all up. He should've been left to die under that bridge.

Cottontail leaned down and asked, "Did you see the mammal who took her?"

He weakly groaned back only to show how useless it was to ask, "Glalwlihh."

"Don't talk. Blink," she instructed. "One blink: yes. Two blinks: no. Did you see the mammal who took her?"

He wanted to tell her to stop. He couldn't help. What was she going to do, go down a list of every mammal in Zootopia? Still, he couldn't bring himself to ignore her. Blink.

"Did they hurt her?"

The ferret seemed more interested in keeping the baby out of sight. Something about distracting the Bigs and Clawleones. A mammal smarter than him would've figured this out by now. Why couldn't've Cottontail trusted a clever fox like Wilde? Why did she have to go and trust a dumbass like him? Blink-blink.

"Do you know where they took her?"

And there was the million dollar question! Anxiety racked Duke's already speeding heart as he heard Li'l Judy calling his name. Begging him to save her. And he laid there like roadkill. Blink-blink.

The wind in Cottontail's sail vanished. Those dumb ears flopped against her back. Seems she was finally getting the message. He couldn't help her. He was useless. She had trusted the wrong mammal.

A phone was held up to his face, on it he saw a news article from down South picturing a shrew. "They didn't look anything like him, did they? Does the name Michael Hornesto mean anything to you?" Duke sighed. This idiot copper didn't even know she was looking for a ferret. She was clearly grasping at straws at this point.

Blink-bli— "Ol' ooo?!"

Another layer of numbness melted away and Duke felt the intoxicating rush he got when he figured out the end of the movie from just seeing the trailer! This shrew looked just like crazy Donny in the cage! Only those ears! Those damn ears don't belong on a shrew! They belong on a—

"`EHE!" For the first time in what felt like weeks, Duke's body jerked, bouncing himself against the table!

"Hey! Whoa! The hell is he doing?" screeched Fru Fru.

Cottontail held him down but kept the phone in front of his face, "What is it, Weaselton? Do you know him?"

He scoured the article, jumping past all the meaningless well-wishes, the simple career summary, the funeral time, until he saw the word… 'orphan'. The first sense of feeling returned. Specifically around his ankle where a strip of film felt like it gripped tighter than an iron chain. With that tightening a spark had been ignited and like on a trail of gunpowder that spark shot from one edge of his mind to the other, making ridiculous connections he had no way of proving, no evidence to back up his hairbrained theory! It was emotional logic! It was movie logic! It was _his_ logic!

Christ Almighty… The ocean was right.

"He stopped movin', did he have a seizure?" asked a very concerned Fredo.

A bunny paw tilted Duke's chin towards a rather anxious copper, "Weaselton, you know him?"

Goddamn right he knew him. Evidently, he knew a lot of shit. At least, he thought he knew a lot of shit. Could very well be full of shit but he wouldn't know what shit he knew until he checked that shit. Right? Blink.

A joyful grin wrapped Cottontail's furry face, "Alright, I'm gonna get you back to the station, clean you up and we're going to catch—"

Blink-blink.

The words caught in Cottontail's mouth when she saw Duke's refusal. Duke wished he had the tongue control to explain to her the need to maintain the illusion that he was still under that bridge. That this would only work if he went alone, or even where he needed to go alone. That he needed her to trust him one last time. That he needed the chance to unfuck this up!

"Weaselton, I can't let you go. Not after everything you've done."

The bravado and eagerness left Duke as he looked back at her regretful thousand-yard stare and was reminded who he was sloppily pleading with. This was Cottontail. He wouldn't be surprised if she'd give herself a parking ticket! To her, the law was the law. And the law said he was under arrest.

"There are those we put away… and those we try to change." Her sentence hanged in the air as he saw something new overcome Cottontail. He couldn't name what that look in her eye was, but it gave him hope. "You know... as much as I hate to admit it, I was impressed with your diner plan. You can be pretty clever when you want to be, Weaselton. Anybody can be anything, right?" She removed the sock from his no longer bleeding chest and took his free paw. She smiled down at him and for a second Duke thought he saw in her what Wilde saw. "Today, I guess, you get to be the hero."

With a swift tug, she hefted Duke onto her back.

"Um, officer, if you need help escortin' him back to your cruiser..." offered Fredo.

She marched towards the stairs, "I'm not arresting him."

"Bu-but we're pressin' charges!" Fredo sputtered.

"And I've been taken off the case."

"Hbttat—WHAT?!" the shriek echoed into every corner of the Big Mansion. Duke's ears flattened against his skull but he still heard Fru Fru's huffs and puffs, "THAT MONSTER STOLE MY BABY! AND YOU'RE NOT TAKIN' HIM IN?! GET HER!"

Nothing happened.

"Hey! Take out those damn earplugs! She's gettin' away!"

From Duke's position hanging on Cottontail's back, he got a clear view of the polar bear unstopping an ear and going, "Hmm?" before Cottontail reached the top of the staircase and kicked open the door. Several polar bears down the hall turned towards them.

"GET THAT WEASEL!" Fru Fru's orders erupted from the basement. That was enough and the polar bears barreled towards them.

The world got suddenly far away as Duke was carried high into the air, just beyond the mountainous polar bear fists. They came down against a far wall and launched again at what felt 20 times faster than when he crashed that plane yesterday. Cottontail landed a two-legged kick against one bear's jaw and the mammal toppled over like a tree. Duke wondered what the hell were those bunny legs made of.

Tipping over as much bear-sized furniture behind her as she could, Cottontail steered them through the mansion. It was disorienting not being able to see where they were going. From Duke's point of view, the polar bears were always on their tails, barely out of reach. He had no idea what the Big Mansion's layout was like but they had already made nine turns and dove through twelve doors! Christ Almighty! How big was Big's place?!

Another turn and up a flight of stairs, slide down a spiral staircase railing, around an indoor marble fountain and then STOP!

The stop was so sudden and abrupt, Duke nearly flew out of Cottontail's hold. There were no more polar bears behind them, no sounds of being chased. They must've lost them! Then why the hell weren't they escaping?!

"Hopps?"

Oh…

Duke saw the bunny legs before him try to adopt a casual pose, "Mr. Big, hehe, nice to see you, _again_ , even though I _juuust_ saw you a minute ago, in your own house, which is _here_."

"...Wha whe ucck?" remarked Duke before he could stop himself.

"Who is that you got on your back?"

Cottontail maneuvered around to make sure Big couldn't see behind her. "Him? Oh, _nooobody_ you have to worry about. _Complete_ stranger." Duke couldn't believe what he was witnessing. He didn't know what he wished he could do more right then, slap himself or laugh his ass off. Goody-goody Cottontail couldn't lie to save her life! It was only with bitter irony that he realized that _his_ life was the one her lies needed to save. "Me and Fru Fru finished that uh… _thing_ we had to do so…"

"...Daddy..." the battlecry faintly roared like a distant yet fast approaching train.

"What was that?" asked Big.

"Fru Fru? I didn't hear Fru Fru! And I absolutely would've heard her because, you know, bunny ears. And now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way."

"You taking the nobody with you? Koslov here could help you carry—"

"NO! I mean, there's no _need_." They were on the other side of Big now and Cottontail's legs started pedaling backwards. "I will take care of this. Thank you for the offer!"

Christ Almighty! How was Big falling for this hokey schlock? How did _Bellweather_ fall for this hokey schlock?! Wilde told him what happened in that museum. It's like the last play Cottontail did was back in grade school! Was it too late to go back to the torture basement? Duke would take that any day instead of having to sit through this! In that aggravating moment of mediocrity, one of Duke's neuron pathways managed to slip through the weakening tranq and gave the order to Duke's arm muscles. His free paw came up to give a critiquing palm to his own head but along the way accidentally slapped Cottontail's... cottontail.

"EEP!" an effeminate yelp resounded down the hall.

Duke was dropped to the floor by the harshly blushing copper who was now covering the seat of her pants. Both stared at his offending paw in awkward silence. Not wanting to give her the wrong idea, Duke immediately tried to say he was sorry. Through his rubber lips it came out, "Fffwuffy!"

Cottontail got even redder.

"Wait a second…" Mr. Big and Koslov watched the cop and robber, "Is that the…?"

"DADDY!" the earplugged polar bear and Fru Fru splashed through the fountain, "THAT DAMN DIRTY WEASEL IS IN THE HOUSE!"

Instantly, Cottontail chucked Duke through the nearest door and ran after him. She slammed the door behind her and blocked the entry with a bear-sized chair. As Duke laid upside-down against the far wall considering how he was both sorry and surprised at what he felt was indeed 'fffwuffy', he regained some neck control and saw they were now trapped in a bathroom. Everything from the sink to the toilet was as gigantic as the rest of mansion, except there was far less gold and rhinestone than he expected. It was probably a spare meant only for the bodyguards.

"Can you hold your breath?" Cottontail's question confused Duke. Her lifting the giant toilet seat didn't make things any clearer. "Trust me, I've done this before. I can help you swim but I can't keep water out of your lungs. Do you have enough control yet to hold your breath?"

Duke stared at the porcelain bowl. Holy shit… She couldn't be serious. There was a bash against the blocked door and cracks appeared in the varnished wood. Cottontail didn't wait for an answer and dragged him towards their disturbing escape. His jello-like legs flailed in an attempt to get away. He didn't want to go anywhere near that thing! Cottontail hopped onto the rim and readied to heave him over the edge. He'd rather get iced!

"You..." a growl came from the wire box on Duke's paw.

Hard metal crashed across Duke's jaw, launching him and Cottontail over the rim and into the water! Liquid rushed into Duke's mouth! It took all his strength but he managed not to hurl and keep his mouth shut. So he could hold his breath! That answered that. But could he swim? Like a rock. Before he sank to the bottom, arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him back to the surface. Duke gasped for breath and saw a jagged hole was being cut into the bathroom door. He was then greeted with a prompt cage smash to the head.

"Donny, stop!" Cottontail got a firm hold of the cage, planted her feet against the bowl and tried to pull him off.

"She clung to you!" Unable to kick out of Hopps' strength, Donny instead shook his cage bars. "She felt safe with you! And you made her let go!"

The world stood still. On the other side of the room, the loud breaking down of the door had stopped. Instead, the shrews listened through the hole in staggered astonishment. The polar bears too waited with odd surprise. Even Cottontail seemed taken aback by what was said.

"Even my youngest brother Fredo never clung to me that hard. That innocent angel liked you, weasel, maybe even loved you! And you..." Duke saw those hostile muscles and claws retract. The desire to kill was gone, there was none left. Only pity. "You're garbage." Donny turned and kicked, flinging his cage off Duke's paw and onto the toilet's water tank.

No mammal seemed to want to break the silence and Duke understood why. He looked at his reflection in the toilet water and saw a weasel who was broken. The way that baby latched onto him like a tick. The way her little daggers clawed against his skin. The way her slobber got everywhere. Duke… missed it. "Yerrr rye," he slurred. "Aye gar'age." Duke managed to look up at Donny, "'N Aye gonna sa'e her."

Donny scoffed, "Save her? How the hell you gonna do that?"

"With me!" Cottontail piped in, shouting to Donny and the Bigs on the other side. "I'm going to help him. Please, Donny, Mr. Big, Fru Fru, if you trust me… then give him a chance." Cottontail tightened her arms around him. "I am."

Those last two words… Christ Almighty… Duke wasn't crying. That was just toilet water dripping down his face. Hot, salty toilet water.

Mr. Big combed a tired paw through his fur and turned to his daughter, "Sweetie?"

The shrew gripped the splintered door as frustration racking her body, "If… if my baby clung to you… a wily, dirty, little weasel…" The door spit even further from her tightly balled fists as she spat out the words, "Then maybe you ain't so bad."

Joyful relief overcame Duke to hear Fru Fru say that. It was almost complementary and that was worth celebrating. Even Cottontail's hold briefly resembled a hug.

"You already trusted him once," called Donny from above, "You really willing to make that same mistake again?"

"He's not a mistake," Cottontail corrected.

Dammit! All this hot, salty toilet water that was definitely not Duke's tears was getting everywhere.

There was a heavy sigh from Donny, "Fine, wondercop. We'll work together. Let's get you both outta there and—" Donny slipped, accidentally pushing his cage off the toilet water tank. It caught on the toilet handle. Both Duke and Cottontail's screams were literally drowned by the loud KER-FLUSH!

Every shrew and polar bear gawked at the now empty toilet.

Donny cleared his throat, "I did not mean to do that."

END CHAPTER EIGHT

 _And I've officially gotten the toilet humor out of the way!_


	9. PROFITS

_How `bout some answers? Ya think you'd like some of dose? Lemme check if I gots any in da back._

 **CA$H ONLY  
** _Chapter 9: Profit$  
_ By: I Write Big

"Seems like only yesterday I was wrapping you up after you got yourself trampled at Roachella, Suga'," the jolly hippo wiggled her tiny ears as she adjusted the IV. Nick only offered his usual smirk as the nurse did her work. So far there hadn't been any word on Hopps. Last mammal to hear from her was Clawhauser and he claimed she was on route to Tundratown almost an hour ago. The radio silence didn't bother Nick. He knew she could handle this. Or maybe that was the morphine dulling his worries.

"You need to start being more careful or we're gonna have to start charging rent." The hippo patted his head and switched on the television as Nick tried and failed to think of a quip about overcharged healthcare. Usually he was quicker than this. Maybe he was losing his touch. Or maybe that was also the morphine. The screen finished glowing to life in the middle of an interview with a portly fox who Nick met the other day.

"—received multiple five-star reviews online. What do you attribute to the quite literal overnight success of your diner?" asked the off-screen reporter.

Gideon Grey thumbed his overalls with pride, "I'd say Real Good Baked Stuff always had what it took to be the best. The food and the love. The only thing missing was the opportunity to show mammals what we could do. And I have a very close friend to thank for that chance."

The microphone retracted from the shot, "Are you talking about Duke Weaselton, the alleged kitnapper of Judy Clawleone Big? Are you saying you and your business condone such crimes?"

The microphone came back and aimed at the suddenly much more nervous Gideon. "I-I-I-I—I should get back to the k-k-kitchen!" The fox scrambled back into the diner.

Into the shot hopped a junior bunny with rather thick glasses, "Hello, News Mammal, I was the clapper! Did you know all shrews look the same?" the kit asked with practiced ease.

Nick concluded that had to have been the morphine. Overalls don't comically come undone and nearly slip off in real life. It would be less of a headache trying to discern what was real and what was drug induced hallucinations if he ignored the TV and instead watched the day go by through the window. He turned over, ready to count clouds only to see…

"Snow?"

"Snow? Now, Suga', where do you see—Oh sweet baby Jesus, what is going on out there?" The nurse also stared out the window in disbelief, confirming to Nick that what he saw wasn't the morphine. Not a single cloud spotted the clear blue sky and yet down rained dots of white that began to cover the streets of Sahara Square. Nick briefly considered whether the city's climate system was malfunctioning.

A new voice came from the TV. "Sorry for the interruption, Tammy, but we're getting some breaking news. Every district of Zootopia is reporting the same phenomenon. Several tons of _paper_ falling from the sky. Where this litter originated from is still unknown but citizens are recommended to stay off the roads until this has cleared. The amount is considered a driving hazard. Several accidents have already been reported. More as this story develops."

The wind shifted and what looked like a wave of white slammed against the wide hospital windows, startling the nurse. The paper formed a new wall, blotting out the sun. As the nurse scrambled to get help, Nick only felt curiosity at the sight. He had grown up on the streets of Zootopia and he had seen more oddities than he could count. But nothing compared to this. If Judy were here, he would've made a quip about 'getting the message across,' for the pages were not blank. Words were typed across them in print too long for his drug-addled mind to comprehend. What he could comprehend was the thirty or so copies of the same gently smiling face with strange ears that was his new wallpaper.

"Donny?"

* * *

To keep water flowing under Tundratown required the proper piping and maintenance. It wasn't unusual for residences to have their sewage ice over, unless of course that resident had high enough income to afford heated piping. This assured no sewage would get blocked by sudden icebergs. Granted, the cost of installing and powering these heaters cost more than calling the plumber once in a while, but to Big they were a necessary precaution. As embarrassing as it sounded, shrews living in a mansion with toilets built for polar bears was a recipe for disaster. Heated piping was the only way to avoid any accidents. Well… accidents that weren't _intended_.

This was why Duke noticed the water was unexpectedly warm as he and Cottontail were torpedoed through a maze of pitch black metal. The bucktooth's short arms were tightly wrapped around his back. He could feel the rush of liquid in his fur which probably meant the tranq was mostly gone but he wasn't taking any chances and concentrated his entire being on holding his breath. Problem was he didn't have that much breath to hold. He wish he hadn't screamed on the way down, he was paying for it now as his nearly empty lungs burned and begged for oxygen. For some reason his brain was beginning to feel fuzzy, which didn't make sense. There wasn't any hair on the inside of his skull. His heartbeat rang in his eardrums and sleepiness began to take hold as if the tranq had came back.

That's when Duke realized he was drowning.

He was pretty sure an expert would tell him not to panic, but panicking seemed like the only option. Duke thrashed his head, hoping the movement would keep him conscious! The water pressed against him from every side like a vice, squeezing the last bit of life out of him! Nothing was working! Somehow the inky blackness was getting blacker! The burn only grew stronger! He needed to breathe!

Then Cottontail's paws let go of his sides and tightly cupped his jowls as if she knew he was seconds from sucking in water. Duke wasn't sure what she was doing but something small and soft pressed against the tip of his snout and into his mouth poured precious air with a hint of carrot. The fuzziness went away, the burn died down. Miraculously, he could think clearly again! How did that happen?

The bunny paws on his jowls weakened and let go but he didn't feel them return to his back. In a moment of terror, Duke reached forward and grabbed the copper. Her face was still hidden in darkness but her body was limp in his hold. Was that the… Kiss of Life thing from all those lifeguard movies? It must have been!

Cottontail had given him her air.

Duke covered Cottontail's nose and mouth, sensing a weakening heartbeat in her neck. Would it work if he gave the air back? Does oxygen go bad after the second mammal?! HOW DOES THIS WORK?! He mentally prepared himself to give it a shot when the current ripped downwards and Duke hit brick. He tumbled several times until he burst from the water's surface into chilling _air!_ The weasel gasped deeply, gulping down every ounce he could. With his nightvision, he could make out they were in a much wider sewage line. One that multiple pipes spill into with their contents rushing down the center. The flat edge they laid on was just high enough to be out of the river. Duke could barely believe he was alive. But was the bunny? She seemed to be unconscious.

"Hey?! Cottontail? Ya'right?" He shook her a couple times. Nothing. Over the endlessly echoing roar of the water, he listened with his ear pressed flat against her chest.

He couldn't hear anything.

"No..."

This wasn't fair. He had dreamt of this moment. Pined for it. Mulled over the finer details on how he'd snuff out the Goody-Goody Cottontail Copper who had put him in the slammer on a monthly basis. And now that it was finally here, he didn't even get to gloat?! Hell, he didn't even deliver the blow! She had the nerve to sacrifice herself for him!

"Ya ain't gettin' off dat fuckin' easy!"

Now, Duke had never been trained in CPR, but he saw enough Baywatch to get the idea. Channeling his inner David Hamsterhoff, Duke ripped away her annoying chest plate and double-fist punched the bunny in the gut with all his might.

"No mammal ain't takin' ya out except me!" He delivered another punch. "Ya get back here 'n help me rescue li'l Judy!" Another. "Afta she's nice 'n safe..." One more. "Den ya can be dead!" He threw his entire weight into his fists! Water gushed out of Cottontail's mouth and into Duke's face! "GAH! Warn a guy, will ya?" Duke rolled her on her side as she sputtered and coughed out the last drops. Eventually, her breathing normalized. She rolled back and weakly looked up at him.

"Did you… Did you just save me?"

Duke froze as it became apparent to him that he did. That did not sit well. Duke had a reputation to uphold. He quickly justified his actions, "Don't ya be gettin' get any smart ideas, Copper. Ya-ya saved my fur back dere, so I owed ya. Now, we're even." At his excuse, her small smile only got bigger. Christ Almighty! That look in her eyes… was she _proud_ of him? "Hey! What did I juss say? Wipe dat look off yer face `fore I toss ya back in! I will! Don't test me! I'll do it!"

"Weaselton," her paw on his arm made him stop, "I won't tell anybody."

Duke supposed he would have to settle for that, "Ya'd better not. Come on, less get outta here `fore somebody flushes." He brushed away her touch and stood. The copper pushed against the concrete floor but her body trembled at the effort. She collapsed and gripped at her stomach.

"Ugh, cheese and crackers, did we hit something in the pipe? It feels like my chest was assaulted by twenty different mammals."

Duke hid his paws behind his back, "Hit somethin'? Sure, yeah, less go wit dat."

She went for a second try to get back on her feet, with one paw clenched to her battered belly. Her breathing hitched and she went down again, "Kkcc, I can't! It hurts too much! I can't!" The bunny pressed against the wall, gasping erratically in pain. Each puff twisted at Duke's usually not too chatty conscience. Regret curling his toes, Duke offered his paw to Cottontail.

"Ya don't tell nobody `bout dis neither," he warned.

She stared at the extended paw then at him. Another smile burst on her face and she said, "You offered and I didn't even have to ask." Oh God, she _was_ proud of him!

"Agh!" Duke scooped the small copper into his arms and began following the waterflow, taking extra careful precaution not to slip on the occasional mossy patch. "Ya know, sometimes I can be nice! Not always worth throwin' a parade! Stop actin' like yer my damn _ma_ or somethin'!" That last bit seemed to make her dumb ears stiffen upwards for some reason. Thankfully, that also got the annoying fluffball to shut her trap and Duke was able to march in relative silence. At one point, Cottontail hissed through enough soreness to pull out her phone but the device was soaked and cracked to disuse. Duke imagined his phone wasn't any better. They trudged for what could've been miles without a word until they spied a circle of light ahead.

"Okay, now that we're out… How do you know Michael Hornesto?" she at last asked.

Duke groaned in frustration. This was going to end with a migraine. "I don't."

Cottontail flinched, "But back at Big's, you said—"

"I've never met 'im, I don't know 'im," shrugged Duke.

"Did you lie to me?"

"I _dink_ I know 'im, I _dink_ I know how he's connected, I _dink_ I know why dis is happenin'."

"Then tell me what you _think_ you know!"

"...Cottontail, lissen ta me very carefully." Duke waited until he was sure he had her undivided attention. "I was a distraction. Dis entire time somebody has been cookin' somethin' up. What exactly? I don't fuckin' know but dey used me ta keep da ZPD off deir tail." That seemed to entice the copper so he continued, "Right now, I'm da only one who knows da mammal who has li'l Judy 'n he dinks I'm outta da picture! If Michael is who I dink he is, den we gotta keep it dat way, 'cause as soon as da kitnapper's name gets out, he'll trace dat back ta me 'n we'll lose our chance."

"But if we used the ZPD—"

"It's too late fer da ZPD! He said he was ready! Whatever I was supposed ta do, I did it, 'n whatever he was plannin' dat needed kitnappin' a baby as a _distraction_ is gonna happen!" Duke was starting to scare himself with what he was saying. That's when they saw the paper. The sewage flow looked as if it had been replaced with a great white basilisk of flyers.

"Da fuck…?" muttered Duke.

"Is that li'l Judy?"

He ran them the rest of the way out of the sewage line. The papers jetted out onto a great lake with even more papers fluttering down from the cloudless blue sky. The copper wriggled out of his hold and, while still gripping at her stomach, picked up a sheet that hadn't landed in the water and scraped the mud away. A clear photo of a happy li'l Judy shined on the page with the words, 'Sunset, Little Rodentia.' Duke looked down at another page that had Michael's mug from the obituary and the words, Mistakes Happen, Pops!'

Cottontail pointed to the drainpipe, "This line flows from Tundratown. The Bigs are seeing this."

Sheer awe dried Duke's throat as he saw the amount of paper covering the forest around them, "Okay, why not, Horn," he whispered to nobody, "What else were ya gonna do wit several empty dump trucks 'n all dose printers I stole for ya?"

The bunny twisted her ears, "Cheese and crackers, the Clawleones are probably seeing this too! If the two families meet in Little Rodentia, it could escalate into the street war we've been trying to avoid this whole time!" Her worry morphed to scowling determination. She turned to Duke, "We need li'l Judy to stop this. How do we find her?"

The whistle of an approaching train caught Duke's attention. "Does da sun rise in da East?"

"...Was that supposed to be an obvious rhetorical question meant to instill me with confidence or do you really not know?"

"I know! I juss forgot, sue me! Does it?"

"Yes!"

He double checked and, lucky him, the train was going South, "We find li'l Judy by gettin' on da train 'n not askin' questions."

"Are you serious?!"

"If yer gonna be a parta dis, ya'll have ta act. 'N yer actin' is what's known as _hammy_. Da less ya know, da more convincin' ya'll be."

He did not expect her downright dumbstruck look to be so frightening, "Are you saying you're not going to tell me _anything_?"

"Nothin'!" he barely managed to stand his ground.

"Not even the name of the mammal who kitnapped my goddaughter?!"

"Dat is da last ding on Earth dat I'd tell ya."

Before she could summon enough rage to, he assumed, rip his fur out, Duke gathered Cottontail back into his arms and sprinted towards the locomotive. He jumped onto the service ladder and swung them both into the nearest car.

As he slid the freight door closed, she called over the high-pitched winds, "Do you at least know where we can find the kitnapper?"

"No, but I know where ta find da mammal who does." At least, he hoped he was right. He didn't want to admit it to Cottontail, but this was a gamble. Duke wasn't a gambling kinda weasel but that changed the moment li'l Judy's safety was on the line. As long as luck was on their side and nobody else knew about Travis, then this might just work.

"So, wait..." Cottontail said. "Donny was with you when li'l Judy was taken. Doesn't he know who the kitnapper is?"

Duke's entire body went rigid, "CRAP!"

* * *

"I'm telling you! It was this ferret named Travis!"

"Travis who?" demanded Mr. Big.

Donny grumbled to himself as he tried to remember, "Ugh! I didn't ask. I think his family owns food stores…? I wasn't listenin' because I didn't know it was him until _after_ he took her."

"So, for all you know, this 'Travis' could be in cahoots with your dad," Big pressed an accusatory claw in Donny's face.

"Don't even get me started!" Donny shoved the claw away, "There ain't no way in hell Pops would ever work with a _ferret!_ Right, Fredo?"

His middle brother shuffled uncomfortably near the desk's edge, "Um, yeah, Mom would have a fit. Fellas, maybe we should take a second to collect ourselves and figure out what needs to be done."

"I know exactly what needs to be done!" growled Fru Fru. From her perch in her polar bear's paws she shook the paper that mocked her with a picture of her kit. "We're going to stop playing nice! We're gonna use every muscle we got! And we're going to Little Rodentia and we're gonna save MY BABY!" The family's army of polar bears that weren't still recovering from Judy's escape silently formed ranks.

"Snookums..." her husband climbed up to her and took her paw, "I wanna find our daughter as much as you but we need to remain caaaaAAAA!" His paw was nearly crushed in her iron grip. "I mean, there's still half a day 'fore she'll be there at sunset!" he squeaked out.

Fru Fru dropped his paw and gave him a confused look, "Fuck ya talking about, Fredo?" She pointed at the text, "The bastard said, 'Sunset _comma_ Little Rodentia.' Obviously, they mean Sunset on the corner of Riverside."

"Oh! You talkin' about that shop where you got that adorable sunhat?" cooed Fredo.

"No, I'm talking about the shop where I got ya those cute sunglasses," corrected Fru Fru.

"Ooh, with the green glitter? I love those glasses!"

"Hey! Whoa! Sweetie!" Mr. Big stepped in, "You sayin' there's a store in Little Rodentia called 'Sunset'?"

"Store, court, park, daycare," listed a new voice. Every shrew craned their necks towards the ceiling and saw it was Fru Fru's polar bear with one of their earplugs plucked out who spoke, "Little Rodentia has a Sunset store on Riverside, a Sunset Court that stretches sixteen blocks, a Sunset Park near the outdoor mall, and the Sunset Daycare Center on the south end."

After a couple moments, Fru Fru screeched, "How many times have I told ya to stop eavesdropping?!"

"Mmm," her polar bear acknowledged and replugged their ear.

"I swear, that fucking bear never stops listening."

Donny opened a map on his phone, "Four Sunsets. If we split up our numbers, we can still take the kitnapper, no matter what, right? But then _when_ do we go?"

"Right the fuck now!" ordered Fru Fru.

"Won't be a problem." Big motioned to Koslov and climbed into the bear's paw, "Get the boys ready."

Fredo protested, " But-but-but what about the police? Shouldn't we ask for their help?"

The old shrew hesitated and gave Fredo an apologetic gaze, "There's only two cops in the ZPD that I trust. Your brother flushed one down the drain to God knows where and the other is in the hospital. I don't want this to get ugly, Fredo, but we're running outta options. We need to protect our family."

Big and Fru Fru were carried out, leaving the brothers alone. Before them lay a copy of the second paper that had caked the front yard. It had gone unmentioned throughout the meeting but now that the shrews were alone, they couldn't look away from the picture. Their fear shown as plain as the page under their feet. Threats were normal. Daily. Words meant nothing to the brothers, unless they were the right words. Nobody accused Pops of making a 'mistake' unless they were stupid… or they had a death wish.

"Pops is gonna be angry," whispered Fredo, a tremble shook his entire body which didn't stop until Donny held him.

"...I won't let nothing happen to you, middle brother."

* * *

When the train sped past the disgustingly pink 'Welcome to Bunnyburrow' sign, Duke heaved a great sigh of relief. He had his fill of bunny adventures for a lifetime. That is… he _will_ have his fill after this bunny adventure was over, at least. Over the last several hours, the copper's angry glares had subsided and she began using the time to recover from her _mysterious injuries_ with what she called calisthenics. Turns out that was a fancy word for middle school stretches. Several times, the sight reminded Duke of that oddly arousing self-described 'fembuck' and Duke had to avert his eyes. To keep himself occupied, Duke tried to mentally plan out the steps they'd need to take while keeping a lookout for any approaching destination signs. The lack of a phone to type down his thoughts and the free bunny show were making that rather difficult. As he watched the tracks, again and again he felt the pinching of li'l Judy's needle claws threading in his fur. Even though he knew she wasn't really there, Duke found himself combing through his hair, as if he would find that brat. She'd only respond to his complaints with a giggling, 'Fuck it!'... Duke wished he could hear her curse like a sailor again.

Eventually, the copper settled on a crate next to him, opened her trap like she wanted to say something but then chose not to. Duke could sense the uneasiness of the situation. After all, this was the first time the two were gonna talk without a table or metal bars between them. Despite it being as simple as a conversation, Duke could already tell this was going to be the strangest thing to happen to him since he stole that printer.

"Sorry, I guess Nick missed a spot," she nodded at Duke's ankle.

"Huh? Oh, dat..."

He had nearly forgotten about the band of film, still flapping in the wind. The constricting wrap hadn't loosened once during this nightmare. While it had remained an annoyance in the back of his head, more pressing matters had taken priority. Duke reasoned there was time now so he unsheathed a claw and scratched at the next layer.

"I could, um..." There was a series of plastic clicks and Cottontail pulled a boxcutter from her belt. Without waiting for his permission, she knelt forward and cleanly sliced away the topmost ribbon. As she made short work of the nuisance, she asked, "So, was it a good movie?"

Duke cleared his throat when he realized he was supposed to respond _without_ a stinging insult, "Ahem! I-I-I'd give it a nine… outta hundred."

"Wow! That bad?" she chuckled as the next layer fell away, "What was it even about?"

"Christ Almighty! A shitty story `bout a tigress adoptin' dis troublemakin' weasel 'n teachin' 'im da error of his ways. It was cliche, sappy, 'n, might I add, very degradin' fer my species."

Another strip of film slid to the floor, "You wanna talk degrading? Have you seen the way bunnies are portrayed in movies?" She suddenly crossed her eyes and put on a thick hillbilly accent, "That there's hotter than a goat's butt in a pepper patch!"

A round of laughs erupted between them only to come to an abrupt halt when they became aware of what was happening. Duke quietly resumed his post of watching for the road signs, hoping against hope that the talk would not continue. He felt the boxcutter slice along his leg again. Yet another inch of fur was freed.

"What, uh, what was the problem with that movie? It sounded like a feelgood story."

His claws strummed in thought before Duke reached into the growing pile of discarded film. He dug until he found the frame and gave it to her. It was the frame depicting the happy tiger and weasel in front of that angelic sunset, the crowd of supportive mammals cheering around them. "It's a fairytale. Not even a good one. It teaches weasels dey don't gotta do nothin' ta move up. Some rich sucker will fix da world for dem. Life ain't like dat. Life ain't a slogan on a bumpa sticka. Life is strugglin' ta make enough ta eat, doin' da lowlife jobs 'cause dey're da only ones dat'll take ya, 'n bein' tricked inta kitnappin' babies. Life is shit."

The afternoon sun shined through the frame in the bucktooth's paw. Slowly, she lowered the film and stared out at the passing woods for what felt like ten minutes to Duke. The weasel had assumed the conversation was over, until she abruptly spoke again, "You know, a long time ago, I sort of said something similar at Nick's academy graduation. I didn't use that kind of language, but you're right. Real life is... _messy_."

"Just say shit."

"No. I don't use that word and neither should you," she practically scolded him.

"If ya say shit, I'll tell ya da kitnapper's name."

For a moment, the copper actually looked like she was considering, but then decided not to call his bluff. She went back to sawing at his ankle, "I also said that we all have limitations. We all make mistakes. And the more we try to understand one another, the more exceptional each of us can be. But for that to happen, you have to try." She paused and looked at him straight on as if she was about to give him a resolute ultimatum. The blade could be felt lifting up the last coil of film but the bunny was not giving that final tug until she heard how he'd respond, "My offer still stands, Weaselton. You help me take this guy down, I'll wipe your record clean."

Duke stared back, unable to name the warm sensation glimmering in his chest. A couple days ago, those words meant zip. A couple days ago, he had more cash than he'd ever need. A couple days ago, he wasn't being hunted. A couple days ago, he was a very different weasel. "Are ya… Are ya…" he nearly blubbered into a wreck. He couldn't allow that and went for the punch that would get a reaction, "Are ya seriously motherin' me right now?"

As he expected, those dumb ears sprang straight towards the sky and her eyes shot open. However, she seemed to just as quickly recover and fixed him with a confident smirk. There was a snip and last of the film was whisked away by the wind. "If mothering you is what it takes to get you to try, then I'm going to mother the _SHIT_ out of you."

And that's when it hit Duke. A moment like this hadn't happened since before grade school. Since before he wasn't allowed to play with the others. Since before he only had his dad's camera to keep him company. It was the start of something new and familiar. Something he hated to admit but never so desperately wanted to be true. Something that made no sense yet made all the sense in the world.

She was his… pal.

Before he knew what he was doing, he had the goddamn Cottontail wrapped in his arms.

"This is a really wonderful moment, Weaselton, despite the desire to wash out my mouth, and I'd hug you back, but I am still holding a knife." They passed a couple dozen more trees. "So..."

"Not done."

"Take your time." Twenty dozen more trees. "Jeez, and I thought I was the emotional one."

* * *

It was not long after that when they arrived at their destination. With some instructions from Cottontail, the two gracefully disembarked the moving train. "CRAP! SHIT! FUCK!" repeated Duke as he bashed his skull, spine and tailbone against several poorly placed rocks during his graceful disembarkment.

"I told you to tuck _then_ roll," snickered Cottontail as she pulled him back to his feet.

Duke groaned, "Silly me."

The copper eagerly turned to the relatively large town waiting down the hill. "Okay, we'll need a way to sneak you into town to find your contact. Maybe we could a fashion a disguise from the tall grass or find a route through the back alleys. Ooh! How about we—"

"Found 'em," Duke proclaimed and headed away from the buildings. On the other side of the train tracks was an empty parking lot. On the other side of the empty parking lot was a thick treeline. On the other side of the thick treeline waited a gazebo that was once filled with happiness.

Cottontail took in the sight, "Did we miss a party?"

"Wait here," Duke said, "'N tie dose bunny ears of yers in a bow. Ya can't lissen ta nothin' she sez ta me!" He ran off before she could protest. Around the gazebo lay the remains. The 'Welcome' banner was strewn across the grass with pawprints, hoofprints and clawmarks alike dirtying the previously spotless sign. Molding cheeseburgers and shattered pickle jars littered the path. Under the gazebo ceiling and standing ever vigilante was the graying cow.

"Zey leave in hurry," sighed Mama Pikel, "I did not zink zey leave wizout memories. I was miztaken."

The family photo museum remained untouched, from the old black and white to the bright colored modern. Every frame had been abandoned in the chase. Not a single Pickle, Picklle, nor Pikel had returned for what were the supposedly precious momentos. The heartache on the cow's wrinkled face... All this suffering, all these lies, all for the piece of plastic in Duke's pocket. He drew the strip out and placed it on the picnic table.

"I can't imagine what dis is like for ya, but at least ya know dis is safe now."

Mama Pikel took the plastic with some confusion, "I give zis for safe keeping."

"Safe does not describe dat recipe but everyone dinks I gots it. Dey won't never come back here 'n dat makes Podunk da safest place."

Some happiness seemed to be returned to the old cow by Duke's actions. "A good mammal. I chooze good mammal. Even when TV call you criminal, I knew you good mammal. To return recipe worth millions take courage of bull."

"Dat don't matter no more. I need yer—Wait, how many millions we talkin' here?"

"Two hundred seventy-five."

"FFFFFFUCK!"

Mama Pikel cuffed him in the back of the head. "Watch language! I tell you already, babushka learn from—" She blinked several times in search, "Where iz babushka? Who iz grumpy bunny and why she iz covering ears?"

"DAT—" Duke took a wheezing breath and regained temporary control of the volume of his voice, "Sorry, dat is actually why I'm here. I need yer—Ya know what, can I get dat recipe back?"

"Nyet."

"AAAAAGGGHHHH!" A couple self-inflicted headbutts to the gazebo legs later, Duke came to terms with the loss of his plastic fortune and collapsed at the foot of the museum. As the head trauma slowly cleared, he spied a family photo with the face he was looking for. Seems his gambling paid off. "As I was sayin', I need yer help." He took the photo and handed it to Mama Pikel. "Da ferret I was impersonatin'? I need ya ta tell me everythin' `bout `im. Start wit da li'l guy on his shoulder."

"Ah, yes... Travis and Michael... Iz sad story." Somber nostalgia took hold of the elder. Again that gentle candle was lit and she stroked the pictured mammals' matching strange ears. Ears that had no business being on a shrew. "Different species, same mother. Half-brothers."

END CHAPTER 9

 _Sorry, pal, outta answers. I only gots is not so subtle hints and red herrings. Tell ya what, I can put in an order for a FINAL CHAPTER and that should be in da next time ya come around. Sound good?_

 _Warning: the preceding use of CPR does not portray the proper use of the life-saving procedure. Please don't punch drowning victims in the gut and assume you'll save them. Take a class and learn from a medical expert._


	10. CLOSER

_My dad noted, "Your writing style is this odd juxtaposing mix of brutal tear-jerking emotion and over the top absurdity."_

" _Yeah," I nodded, "I call it the Marvel Cinematic Universe Method."_

 **CA$H ONLY  
** _Chapter 10: Clo$er_  
By: I Write Big

Travis Picklle idly rolled his tongue along his loose fang. His thoughts on when the baby fang would finally fall out and he'd get his grown-up fang were overshadowed by the chalk full moon surrounded by starry night sky designs on the adobe walls. That was the word ma called them. Adobe. Meant some kind of mud brick. Good for hot places like here down South. Travis had been kinda wary to cross the border. When those little booklets with their faces on the inside arrived, ma had packed everything within minutes and told him to get in the truck.

"But ma, I have school tomorrow."

"I'll call and tell 'em you're sick or somethin', Travis. Now come on!"

They drove until the sun went down and kept going. When Travis woke, his ma was parking at what looked like a school twice as big as the one back in Bunnyburrow. His ma went into the front office, while Travis wandered through the open air halls that led out to a central courtyard. The dusty square was littered with broken toys and unfinished puzzles and rusty swing sets. Travis had a slight fear that they were going to move again like they had suddenly moved to Bunnyburrow after ma lost her housekeeping job. Maybe his ma was going to transfer him to this awful place. Was it because of the clawing incident? He swore to ma that Gideon was the one who scratched Judy, not him. Did she not believe him? More importantly, where were the other kits? He'd need to size them up if he was going to survive here.

"You're too old," said a squeaky voice by his foot.

It was a shrew. Travis had never met a shrew before. He was stunned by how small the mammal was, probably small enough to fit in the palm of his paw. He was also amused by the light jacket the shrew wore with the hood framed around the shrew's face.

"No one's gonna take you," the shrew continued.

"Take me?"

The shrew shrugged, "I don't make the rules, but no family wants to adopt a kit after they hit 7."

That's when Travis figured out this wasn't a school. His ma had driven him to an _orphanage_. Horrific ideas that the clawing incident had been the final straw and his ma was going to abandon him nearly stopped Travis' heart. In a panic, Travis ran back through the courtyard to the office. As he reached for the doorknob, the door swung open and his ma stepped out. The lifeless look she held froze Travis' questions in his throat. She glanced briefly past him and when Travis followed her gaze, he saw she was staring at the young shrew who now peeked around the corner. She let out a choking laugh and a sniffle before slowly going to the kit. His ma kneeled and tenderly pulled back the hood, freeing a pair of strange floppy ears that didn't seem to fit the shrew.

It was with some confusion that Travis noticed the shrew had his ma's ears.

He had _Travis'_ ears.

They left without the shrew.

When Travis asked why, his ma said they couldn't. When Travis asked if it was because they were poor, his ma said it wasn't. When Travis asked if the shrew was his brother or something, she cried.

For a while, they'd visit that orphanage, slowly filling their booklets with stamps. Ma would always bring gifts—homemade food, fresh clothes, brand new toys—and Travis would play with Michael. He found having a little half-brother to be exciting. Every time he came down, Michael would have a new delicious drink for him to try. The shrew really loved to experiment with mixing fruit juices and sodas together.

"I wanna make a drink for every mammal. Pred or prey," he'd brag, "Something that has a little of everything."

Plus, unlike Gideon, Michael was willing to listen to what Travis had to say, would play games Travis wanted to play. When Travis asked why, Michael said he was happy to hang out with someone who wouldn't make fun of his ears. Neither really understood why Michael wasn't allowed to go with them but Michael said it didn't matter. He was too old for any family to want to adopt him and in a few years Michael would be 16. At 16, the orphanage couldn't keep him anymore and he'd be allowed to go with Travis and ma back across the border. That seemed to be what his ma was waiting for. With each visit, she grew brighter and as a family they grew closer.

Then one day, Michael wasn't there.

They were told he'd been adopted and, legally, the orphanage couldn't say by whom. His ma didn't talk much after that. The only words Travis heard from her were muttered curses directed always at the same name.

"Clawleone… Clawleone, ya fuckin' bastard..."

Her curses didn't end until a couple months later when she drew her last breath.

* * *

' _57 bushels of carrots on the wall, 57 bushels of carrots! You take one down, pass it around! 55 bushels of—No! Wait! 56! Agh!'_ Judy's headache inducing humms were brought to a frustrating halt when she saw Weaselton yet again astonishedly gasp in response to the cow she wasn't allowed to listen to. It had felt like she'd spent an eternity with her ears plugged while politely watching Weaselton react to what appeared to be the most fascinating conversation in the world. If only she hadn't lost her favorite carrot pen microphone in the Tundratown sewage. "Cheese and crackers, Weaselton! If you want me to _not_ care, you have to stop making that face!"

"I told ya! Ya don't need ta know dis!" he shouted back.

"Huh?" Judy uncovered an ear.

"I sed, ya don't need ta know da big multi-layered backstory of somebody ta get what deir doin'. Sometimes, it's betta ta keep it simple."

"Actually, I feel like I'd be way more emotionally invested if I was made aware of the intricacies of the mistakes made in the past and the moral quandaries those said mistakes have created in the present."

The weasel ground his teeth at her and, for a moment, Judy was reminded of the good old days when she'd get Weaselton riled up in that Precinct 1 interrogation room. "Justice! Okay? Dey're out fer justice! Or revenge, depending on how ya look at it... Christ Almighty, not every criminal is as complex as Thanos or Keyser Soze!"

"Who?"

"WHO?!... Fuck you." He turned back to the poor cow who seemed to be confused by the spat between the two, "I'm guessin' ya got nothin' else?"

"Uh… After his mozer dies—"

"Whose mother died?" asked Judy.

"Hey!" The bunny rolled her eyes at Weaselton's glare and covered her ears again. Only this time, she decided to fake it a little. She loosened a paw ever so slightly until she could catch Weaselton's words as he turned back to the cow and asked, "Ya was sayin'?"

"After his mozer dies, I do not hear from him for years." Judy's foot thumped. There was something off about that statement. While Weaselton had been making faces, the cow had up to now kept a steady somber gaze on the weasel throughout this tale. But for that one sentence, her tired eyes shifted to the side. A lie. Most likely pertaining to the photo crinkling in the cow's grip. Judy would have to listen carefully to learn more. "And zat is all. I only know what ozers tell. Understand, I was not zere."

Judy felt like she was going to have an aneurysm! Did she miss everything?!

"Don't worry `bout it," assured Weaselton, "I'm an expert when it comes ta family tragedies. Trust me, I've seen too many movies not ta be. I dink I gotta pretty good idea what happened next. Not dat it's important. Alright, Cottontail, we're done. Ya can lissen again."

Y'up, definitely an aneurysm.

* * *

Travis Picklle ran his tongue along his now grown-up fang. The brownish tinge to the once white tooth was due to a dead nerve, according to his dentist. No rush, but the fang would eventually have to come out or he'd risk infection. He pushed away the thoughts on when to schedule the operation and instead mentally compared the moonlit starry night sky design on the Phull Muun office walls to the chalk starry night sky from the adobe so long ago. It had been lonely making that trip down South without his ma. The Picklles who had taken him in wouldn't have crossed the border with him even if he asked. Well, Mama Pikel might have. A downside of having a huge widespread family was the lack of personal attention. But Travis had found there was also an advantage to this. He was free to pursue what he wanted, including selling almost everything ma left him so he could bribe the orphanage's record keeper. His entire inheritance gone and the only thing he got was Michael's adopted name.

When he looked it up, Travis had to double check. It could've been coincidence. Michael Hornesto sounded like a common name for down South. However, this was the only shrew who had that exact name and was also the right age. Plus, those ears… It couldn't be any other mammal. After convincing the secretary by using his fancy voice that mammals seemed to respect more, Travis was let into the starry night sky marble office and hugged his half-brother for the first time in almost ten years.

"And here I was thinking I would never see you again. How the hell have you been, Travis?"

"Too much hogwash to complain about. Ya done mighty fine for yourself. Shucks, I can't believe Phull Muun was you."

"Eh, it's not for every mammal yet, but I'm getting close."

Michael offered him a job at the brewery but Travis had to decline. He wasn't exactly raring to go through the mess of learning a new language and swapping citizenships. Instead, he got work at a landfill less than a day's drive from the border. Travis truly believed he could spend the rest of his life there as long as he knew his half-brother was safe and happy. That'd be enough. And for while, it was.

Then the letter came.

It was laying unassumingly on Michael's counter when he pointed it out to Travis. Paw-written on shrew-sized paper which meant no bigger than a postage stamp. The scratchy lettering only added to the reading difficulty. Signed by some asshole who went by Donny Clawleone.

' _Clawleone… Clawleone, ya fuckin' bastard...'_

"Says he's my brother from papa's side."

Travis resisted the urge to tear the letter to shreds, "So, these here are the snakes, huh."

"More than that. Familia. Mafia. One of the most powerful in Zootopia."

Frigid dread iced Travis' veins at the revelation. Where his half-brother came from never mattered to Travis. It shouldn't matter. That's what it meant to be a Picklle or a Pickle or a Pikel. And despite his raising, for an instant, Travis was scared of Michael.

"In the letter he apologizes for the whole orphan trouble and then says I shouldn't come looking for him. Turns out, my papa leaving me in that orphanage was a compromise he made with mama. As long as I don't exist up there, I can exist down here." Michael pressed a claw under the counter and a hidden panel popped open. Inside, on a velvet cushion, sat a shrew-sized strip of clear plastic.

"What's that?"

"A drink for every mammal. Pred or prey," Michael held the plastic to the light and Travis saw almost microscopic strings of text hidden in the strip, "A recipe that has a little of everything. And maybe..." a glint of hope passed Michael's face, "...enough for papa."

Travis couldn't really comprehend that, "W-What're you blabberin' on `bout?"

His half-brother talked like he was grasping for an answer, "Maybe if I give this to him, it would fix things. Maybe if he saw how much money I make, I can... prove myself to him."

"You ain't gotta prove nothin', Michael! This ain't about the money!" Whatever unfounded fear Travis had was overtaken by the urge to protect Michael from his own foolishness. "I'm your family! Me and ma raised you! These monsters threw you away like trash! If anythin' they should be here beggin' for your forgiveness instead of hidin' like yellow-bellies behind letters! Don't give 'em your life's work! They don't deserve you!"

A plane buzzed through the sky for an agonizingly long time with neither brother saying a word. Travis waited for some kind of acknowledgement, a sign that would ease his worry. Then he felt the small strip of plastic being pushed into his paw.

"Put this where I won't find it. I don't think I'll be able to stop myself."

Michael left the room and didn't say goodbye. Travis clenched the goddamn recipe to his chest, the sting of failure burning.

' _Clawleone… Clawleone, ya fuckin' bastard...'_

Travis poured through every public record he could to find out more about this Donny Clawleone. The search wasn't that straightforward. Newspapers skirted the details. Evidence just happened to vanish. What few details Travis managed to dig up painted a picture of a crime family who only existed to ruin lives. And for some reason, Michael was compelled to impress them.

It wasn't long after that Travis concluded he couldn't stand to be near the piece of plastic. The sight of it reminded him of Michael's sudden radio silence. He wouldn't respond to anymore of Travis' emails, texts, voicemails. Nothing. Even when Travis personally came across the border he was told Mr. Hornesto was too busy to take visitors. He grew sick of having the recipe in his shack and gave it to Mama Pikel, the only mammal he could trust. He made sure to only inform her enough of the recipe's significance to ensure that she'd always keep it safe. And yet, somehow, word eventually got out to the rest of the Pickles, Picklles, and Pikels. The three families began to schmooze up to the aging cow; trying to win her favor.

For years, Travis watched this in disgust. His own family degraded to heartless scavengers, waiting for their elder to drop dead. More lives ruined by Clawleone.

' _Clawleone… Clawleone, ya fuckin' bastard...'_

And then, finally, a letter from down South.

An invitation to the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Michael Hornesto.

* * *

"It's kinda funny when you think about it," smirked Donny.

"Funny? This ain't funny at all," grumbled Fredo, "He's dead."

Donny agreed with his middle brother, but he didn't say it out loud. Donny just wanted to sound tough instead of showing his shame. He swiped again through the obituary that had mysteriously appeared in both of their emails a couple minutes ago. Almost two months. He had been completely clueless that his little brother had been buried in a graveyard out by Podunk for almost two months. Probably ran right past the place when he was chasing that dumb weasel. Guess he shouldn't have expected a notice about the funeral. It wasn't like the two of them talked beyond that one letter. Still, though, it hurt.

The photo of Michael on his phone matched the photo on the many flyers speared through the clocktower that stood over the main entrance of Little Rodentia. They had a clear view of the tower from Sunset Park as well as the multiple polar bears patrolling the wrought iron fencing that surrounded the entire district whose tallest building was barely two feet high. They looked like giant suit wearing sentinels. With how tightly Little Rodentia was built, only two polar bears could squeeze in past the fence. Koslov with Big at Sunset Daycare and the selectively deaf polar bear who always carried Fredo's wife. The broad was over by Sunset Store, scanning the district from the polar bear's raised paw. All sixteen empty blocks of Sunset Court were being watched by polar bears over the fence. The usually rodent filled district had been cleared thanks to the flyers.

Despite their numbers and vigilance, Donny couldn't help feeling trapped. They were out in the open, in the heart of Sahara Square with exits in every direction, but there remained this instinctual foreboding. Like hearing that first rumble of the approaching storm and wondering if he was fast enough to escape its path.

"Hey, don't look so scared. Can't have you start playin' dead on me again," he got a friendly shove from Fredo.

Donny growled at the one embarrassing thing that Fredo _always_ brought up. Since they were kits, Fredo had rubbed the fact in his face that he constantly had to save his fainting older brother. Now, Fru Fru was probably gonna join that teasing since she pulled him from the snow.

Hold on a minute… Hold on one fucking minute…

"Fredo..." That storm's rumble got a little louder. "You said Fru Fru found me and the weasel, right?"

"Yeah, under a bridge."

ZPD cruisers and ZNN news vans began parking on the corners. Cops and news reporters with the same size problems as the polar bears took positions around the perimeter. The blues weren't here to arrest, only to prevent any possible violence from breaking out. The cameras were here to broadcast every second of violence they could. Fredo was concerned by their arrival, but Donny was only focused on how the bolts of that storm's lightning seemed to be growing stronger.

He grabbed Fredo's collar, "Under a bridge? On the _edge_ of Tundratown? In an _hour_? By _herself_?" That lightning cracked and rolled across the gray skies and from the way the whites of Fredo's eyes flashed, Donny thought Fredo could hear it too.

"Donny, what… fuck are you sayin'?"

There was the metal whine of brakes the Clawleone brothers had known since kithood. Flanked on both sides by several black Growlers, at the entrance of Little Rodentia, plastered with flyers, parked the black sedan. The backdoor opened and out came an army of raccoons…

...and Pops.

* * *

Travis Picklle slid his tongue across his lucky golden fang as he stared at the moonlit starry night sky design on his bottle of Phull Muun. He felt like he'd been chipping away at a wall of impenetrable diamond. Even with the near endless fortune Michael had left him, he couldn't find anything substantial to pin on Clawleone. He'd hired dozens of mammals: P.I.'s, gangsters, snitches, thieves and one by one they disappeared. Maybe they were left to rot in a field. Maybe they got a ticket down South. He didn't know. What he did know was this wasn't working.

Pops Clawleone was untouchable.

The police weren't anywhere near him. Most of the public didn't even know he existed. He had mastered running his business as a nobody!

Travis dragged his finger across his phone and found an update from the mammal he had on the inside of Big's mansion. They hardly ever had new information and was only really on the take because one of Clawleone's sons got hitched. Travis considered whether he should end the contract early before Big lost a mammal. The email had an attached photo of the Clawleone son and his wife dancing at some kind of fancy party. Between them they carried a baby shrew.

"Overheard Pops is NOT HAPPY with this kit," said the email.

Pops Clawleone having problems with an unexpected kit born from a rival family, what a shocker. Probably using what small restraint he had because this time it wasn't his kit.

But…

Gears started spinning in Travis' head.

But…

He tapped the beer bottle as a plan formed.

But… If an opportunity were to present itself, would Pops be able to resist?

No... No, he would not.

His mammal on the inside could easily arrange the removal of the kit. Their job required close proximity to the baby after all. Another would have to transport the baby out of the city. A mammal who wouldn't ask questions if they got enough cash would be ideal. Even better would be a mammal slippery enough to not get immediately caught but incompetent enough to _not_ finish the job. Not another kit was being sent down South as far as Travis was concerned. Clawleone wouldn't hurt another mammal again. Not if Travis could help it. The ferret smiled, his lucky golden fang gleaming.

He knew the perfect weasel.

* * *

As Duke got out of the truck, he wondered if the stream they'd driven past was the same stream he bathed in to get the smell of dump out of his fur. That bath felt like a lifetime ago. He must reek at this point. Cottontail happily thanked Mama Pikel for the ride and then turned an annoyed face on Duke, "Seriously, Weaselton, this is getting ridiculous. Why did you drag me out to this graveyard in the middle of nowhere?"

"Nope, ya can't know dat neither." He marched past the first row of tombstones, trying not to show how much he was enjoying her frustration.

The copper was close behind, "For the love of—You need to give me something or else I'm going to be forced to—" A sudden look of recognition crossed her eyes as they saw the only other living mammal straight ahead. "...Is that...?"

"Stop talkin'!" ordered Duke.

Her fur bristled, "Really?!"

"Dis is da moment, Cottontail. When yer cue comes—not if, _when_ —you'll know what ta do. Until den, not a peep."

"I barely know what's going on anymore!"

"Exactly."

The copper barely held herself back, "I swear, if this has all been some elaborate trick, I am putting you away forever!"

"Dat's da spirit, use dat energy!" He scurried forward before she could explode and the copper stomped after him. Normally, he wouldn't try to get on her bad side, but he needed Cottontail to be as on edge as possible. If this went tails up, he'd need her to act without a second thought. The vibrant green grass, which contrasted strikingly with the crunchy brown tall grass around the graveyard, cushioned Duke's feet as he came to a stop a few headstones short of the mammal who had set this entire nightmare into motion. The ferret who looked so similar to him that he could've been Duke's twin perked up from watching whatever was playing on his phone and stared at Duke… in shock.

"What..." croaked Travis.

"...da..." helped Duke.

"Tarnation?" finished Travis.

"Was lookin' for 'fuck,' but OH THANK CRAP!" Duke cried in celebration, "You're surprised! Ya didn't know I was comin'! Phew, I was like 50 percent sure I was dramatically walkin' ta me and Cottontail's graves. Dat woulda sucked!"

The bunny's ears flopped at the word graves.

Travis didn't say a word. He continued to stare in shock.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Duke waved off the pride filling silence, "You're probably dinkin' ta yerself right now, 'how da fuck did dis dumbass figure it out?' Lemme tell ya, I may not be no copper, but you, Travis, ya made a huge mistake. Ya hired a mammal who wastes most of a his life watchin' crappy movies. I can spot da bad guys a mile away! Took me a li'l while wit ya, but dat changed afta' I saw ya brother's ears." Duke confidently pointed to the marker directly behind Travis with the name carved into the stone: Michael P. Hornesto. "Way back in Skoll Canyon, ya talked `bout how much family meant ta ya. If dat were da truth, den why did ya leave ya brother across da border as an orphan? `Cause some asshole wouldn't let ya take 'im. Classic dick move! `N all it takes is one dick move ta create 'nother dick! And so ya put dis whole shitstorm togetha, stuck me wit da kit, 'n waited til ya could get back at da mammal who fucked up ya life! `Cause, it's juss like ya sed. Dis was never `bout da cash. Dis was `bout _family._ " Duke concluded his genius with a momentous clap and waited for Cottontail to take him away!

Nothing happened.

"Hey!" Duke nudged the oddly gaping bunny, "Dat was yer cue."

"You... are... so... stupid..." she whispered.

"What? Fuck ya mean?"

"Ahem!" Travis finally made a noise. Gone was the ferret's shock, in its place was unexpectedly calm understanding. "I'm afraid I don't quite grasp what he's talking about, Judy."

She groaned in agreement, "Pretty clear he doesn't either. Weaselton, did you actually make me not listen to possibly vital witness testimony so you could do this crazy Poirot reveal?"

"Ya can't act! If ya knew, ya woulda blabbed 'n ruined da moment! What are ya waitin' for?!" demanded Duke. "Why ain't ya bookin' him already?"

The bunny grabbed him by the wifebeater and pulled him down to her level, rage boiling over! "Because that's not how arresting a mammal works! This isn't one of your precious movies! This is reality! And in reality, you need evidence!"

"I juss explained what he did!"

"And where's your proof, Weaselton?! Did you _see_ Mr. Picklle commit any crimes?!"

Duke thought long and hard about everything he knew, "...Is dat important?"

"CHEESE AND CRACKERS!" Her bellowing curse echoed across the field.

"If it helps," piped in Travis. "I'm actually here to visit my ma." He motioned to the grave next to them with the name: Josephine Picklle. "Can't say I ever met this Michael… Agresto was it?"

"Oh don't pretend ya can't remember his name! Da grave is right behind ya, ya sonuva—"

"He even has an explanation for being here. Amazing!"

Duke thought the copper was on the verge of blowing a second gasket as she tramped in small circles grumbling at herself for thinking Duke could handle this. Duke himself was similarly losing his fucking mind. Proof? Since when did cops need proof?! This was crime movies 101. Corner the criminal, accuse them with nothing to back you up but your own word, they unnecessarily confess to everything.

...

Okay, wait, nope, now it made sense. FUCK!

Tap-tappity-tappity-taptaptaptap!

Duke turned towards the taps to see Travis blankly staring straight at him as the ferret's fingers flew across his phone. He gave a final tap and they heard a message sent jingle.

"What was dat? What did ya juss do?"

The ferret smiled, "I'm actually flabbergasted to find a ZPD officer down here, considering the humdrum unfolding in Li'l Rodentia..." Travis turned his phone around to reveal a livestream of ZNN. The mini-district was packed with shrews, polar bears, raccoons and coppers, all staring each other down, waiting for the other to make a move. Almost at the same time, every shrew on screen pulled out their phones.

"Looks mighty serious if you ask me."

* * *

Donny looked to Fredo. His middle brother had the same 'what the fuck' look that he was pretty sure was on his damn face too. He spun around. The look was on Big's face, Fru Fru's face! The only shrew who looked differently was Pops. The old shrew stared at his phone as he might regard a challenge issued by a mammal not worth his time.

Defiant.

Angry.

That would be expected if he was reading the same message that Donny, Fredo, Big, and Fru Fru just received from that same mysterious email.

'Get Pops arrested or you'll never see li'l Judy again.'

Pops snarled at the other shrews, mutedly threatening them with a fate worse than death if any dared to move an inch. He waved to his raccoon and they turned back towards the sedan. News cameras focused their lenses on the departing group and cops reported the update to their superiors. With every step Pops took, the fear rooting Donny in place tightened its grip. This was the kitnapper's demand. To do what he nor any mammal never had the balls to do. This went beyond squealing. This was the impossible.

Almost…

Donny whipped back towards Fru Fru. If what he just figured out was right, then he needed time to get some answers. And to have that time, Pops couldn't get away. Donny clenched his teeth and screamed at the top of his lungs!

"Take out his wheels!"

* * *

"Oh no! It's too late!" cried the bunny. The feed went staticky after the polar bears tipped the sedan onto its roof and she bolted towards the dirt road.

"No no no!" Duke grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around. "We're too far away ta help!"

"Because you dragged me on this wild goosechase! Now fighting is breaking out in the middle of Zootopia! Innocent mammals are going to get hurt!"

"We can stop dat wit li'l Judy! 'N I'm tellin' ya, Cottontail, he's our guy!"

"And I'm telling you, I have no legal grounds to touch him! No warrant! No reasonable suspicion! At this point, without something short of a confession, I can't do anything!"

They heard shouts and roars come from Travis' phone. "Oh! Signal's back."

* * *

Dozens of unconscious raccoons and polar bears decorated with tranq darts littered the streets. ZPD officers wielding riot shields marched in a wall formation, slowly closing in on the almost fifty remaining clashing mammals. At the center of this turmoil, Donny pulled Fredo into Koslov's paw with Big.

"The fuck were you thinking giving that order, Donny?!" shouted Big as Koslov slowly bent an escape hole in the iron fence.

"It was the only way to keep Pops here! I'm gonna take care of this!" Donny shouted back as Fru Fru arrived. He looked towards his sister-in-law and growled, "Wait a second!" He leaped to the next polar bear's paw and got in Fru Fru's very confused face. "I am slightly pissed that you did not figure this out before me, Fru Fru. Woulda saved us all a whole lotta trouble."

"What? What the fuck are you—"

"Just go with Koslov and keep my middle brother safe, will ya!" He shoved her back across to where he came from and directed his furious sights up at the earplug wearing polar bear. "YOU!"

The polar bear pulled out a plug, "Hmm?"

"You're working for that ferret who has li'l Judy, ain't ya?"

Somehow the polar bear got even paler than his white fur. Donny felt the telltale twitch in the bear's palm and launched himself before the giant paw closed around him. He latched onto the bear and scaled at breakneck speed, slicing, biting, and clawing along the way! He climbed until he reached the ears and twisted the appendages till there was a pop! The polar bear yelped in pain, tripped on several small buildings, and bashed his head against the iron fence! Finally, he collapsed to the ground.

"I'll take that as a yes," smirked Donny, making sure the cracking of his knuckles could be heard over the chaos. "I'm also guessing that you got a direct line to that asshole."

The polar bear nodded quickly.

"Good, then let's give him what he wants."

* * *

"It has to be you."

Duke blinked, "Huh?"

The bunny massaged her head and hissed to herself, "Oooh my gosh, I can't believe I am saying this! No other options, Judy, just go for it. Go for it! Okay!" She turned back to Duke, "My paws are tied and there's nobody else here, Weaselton. If Mr. Picklle really is the mammal behind this, you need to get him to talk."

"Get him ta talk? Oh! Ya want me ta beat da shit outta him til da bastard sings? Wit pleasure!"

"Don't do that! When I say talk, I mean _talk!_ "

"Talk? Actually talk? What happened ta all dat needin' evidence shit?"

"Forget the evidence, forget trying to solve the big mystery!" She shook his shoulders, "If there's anything I've learned about you after booking you seventeen times, Weaselton, it's that you know how to get under mammal's fur. You know how to push their buttons. You are the most insensitive, uncaring, jerk in Zootopia!"

"...Thanks?"

"See a therapist. What I'm getting at is you can spot what makes them tick. Right now, you need to use that skill not to insult but to appeal."

Again, Duke blinked, "...I don't get it."

Cottontail gritted her buckteeth, "Opposite! Just do the opposite of what you usually do!"

She pushed him towards Travis who watched his phone screen. The copper's instructions mulled around in Duke's head. Opposite… Do the opposite… The obvious option was the grating country bumpkin speak Travis used. So what, should he _compliment_ his poor grammar? That didn't sound right. Oh wait, did she mean trick him, like Duke tricked Gideon? No, Gideon was an idiot. Travis had proven he was somewhat smart. Damn it! If only Duke had his phone. He could search for some 'appeal' movie scenes and copy those. Maybe he could borrow Travis' phone.

Wait...

Was Duke seeing things?

He knew he saw the endless mob brawl on the phone screen. He knew he saw Cottontail pacing back and forth in the corner of his vision. But did he just see what he think he just saw? He shifted his focus entirely to Travis' claw that hanged off the phone's side. There it was again! It couldn't be!

"You're… tremblin'."

Travis immediately grabbed his offending paw, but the shaking was already moving up his arm. Those shakes were so familiar…

' _This ain't never gonna end...'_

And then Duke thought he knew what appeal meant.

"Ya never wanted it ta get ta dis."

Travis didn't respond, only stared straight ahead, gripping his shaking arm. Instead, Cottontail responded, "Weaselton, the daughter of the two biggest rival crime families of Zootopia was kitnapped. The only thing keeping them from going at each other was that baby. Whoever did this has gotten exactly what they wanted."

"No! Dey didn't! Dey didn't want nobody hurt! Dink `bout it! Don'tcha find it a li'l unbelievable dat Fru Fru found me 'n Donny so quick?" The copper stopped. Her ears shot up and her foot began to thump. Duke hoped that was a good sign. "No mammal knew where we was, except da mammal who put us dere." Donny got in front of Travis and tried to look him in the eye, but Travis kept looking past him, "Dat mammal told someone. Dat mammal told Fru Fru's polar bear. Dat mammal didn't want me ta die. Dat mammal didn't want Donny ta die. Even if it meant he could be caught. Why?" Duke had sudden flashes of the old Clawleone shrew who nearly knocked him off back in Bunnyburrow. "`Cause dat mammal is better dan him. Dat mammal only wants ta hurt one: dat old Clawleone fuckin' bastard."

For the briefest moment, their gazes met and Duke was sure he was going to speak. But then Travis turned away. So Duke kept pressing.

"What `bout dat bunny pilot, huh? While I was stealin' gas, not givin' a fuck, ya was carryin' him `round. Probably took him straight to a hospital afta' I drove off."

"Course, I did!" nearly shouted the ferret, "Anyone with a lick of sense coulda seen he needed a doctor." Travis turned his attention to the bunny, "Also, Judy, I'm not pressing charges for the plane crash neither. Nothing of value was lost."

The copper refused to speak and only peered at Travis more intensely, her foot thumping to blurring speeds.

"Oh right, you probably don't know what I'm talking about. It's a sorta funny story—"

"Da night we met…" At Duke's mutter, Travis became a statue. "Ya could already tell, couldn't ya? Dis while fiasco was goin' too far. When ya told me ta apologize ta Donny and give him li'l Judy, ya meant it. Ya was tryin' to call it off. Ya was tryin' to end da whole kitnappin' `cause Donny and me showed ya… it was only gonna get worse." The shaking spread to Travis' shoulders and Duke questioned how such a meek looking mammal could still be the same Horn who had instilled him with terror. He could see now how well the ferret had worn that mask, hiding behind a voice on the phone, justifying villainous acts to catch a bigger villain. "And by da time I was cruisin' back ta Zootopia, it was too late. Ya was in too deep 'n had nothin' ta show fer it. Even if dere was da tiniest chance dat ya could take Clawleone down, ya had ta risk it. So ya took li'l Judy off my paws and did what I always do, assumed it would work itself out." Duke reached forward and pointed to the pandemonium, "But ya never wanted dis—"

His paw was shoved away and Travis gave him his most Horn-like scowl, "Haven't the faintest what you're on about."

"HEY!" a recognizable gruff voice crackled from the phone.

"Donny?" the copper snatched the device away and practically hogged the thing.

"You watching, jackass?"

* * *

"Uh sir..." the ZNN news donkey said to Donny. "You can't use that kind of language on television."

"Then censor me!" Donny pointed his claw at the camera and nearly scratched the lens, "You want Pops, I'm giving him to ya. Pay attention!"

With the camera following his every move, Donny took off like a rocket, easily dodging the massive polar bears and raccoons! Bouncing off a destroyed Growler's tires, Donny landed on the head of the earplug wearing polar bear! He steered the polar bear at a group of raccoons gathered under the clocktower and ordered, "Dive!"

The resulting tackle flung raccoons in an eruption of striped fur! Momentum carried Donny high into the air until he clumsily landed atop the clocktower, the timekeeper ticking just to his side! Moments later, a white polar bear paw held a clenched grey raccoon paw over the clocktower! A quick twist to the raccoon's wrist and Pops tumbled out, across from Donny! As polar bears fended off raccoons from interfering, Donny stared at his Pops. The mammal who had nearly made him—his oldest son—disappear. His entire life had been spent fearing this one shrew, praying he never slipped up, throwing punches at others he wished he had the guts to throw at this shrew.

Pops stood and stretched his elderly back. He sighed as if he were about to admonish a disobedient kit, "That's enough, Donny. You already squealed, don't make this more painful for yourself."

"Yeah, I squealed. And it felt great." Donny saw Pop's flinch. It made him smile. "I bet this will feel fuckin' fantastic!" Donny's fist buried itself in Pops' stomach! A gurgling wheeze came from Pops' hanging jaw! A single tear rolled down his normally desert dry face! Donny was right. That did feel fucking fantastic.

"That was for li'l Judy."

He grabbed Pops' collar and tossed him to the other end of the clocktower where he clung to the railing. He slowly approached the now cowering shrew, taking extra time to be as intimidating as possible. He needed to sell this for the camera.

* * *

"No! No, Donny, you need to stop!" the copper uselessly yelled at the phone.

Duke turned to Travis. The ferret was glued to the broadcast with wide-eyes of horror. The shaking was full body now. He'd become a perfect replica of his dad, hunched over his desk, hiding his tears.

Duke put a paw on his shoulder. "Dat idea in yer head, dat if ya juss wait a li'l longer, dis'll go away? It's wrong. Dis ain't never gonna end. Not until ya do somethin'. Travis, Donny was Michael's brother. Whether ya like it or not, dat makes him yer family." He got a look from Travis and there wasn't a trace of Horn in there. "Juss tell me where li'l Judy is, it's da only way."

This time, Travis didn't look away. His mouth opened… and then shut. Travis nabbed his phone from Cottontail and typed like mad. There was the message sent jingle again. He then switched back to the livestream and hysterically shouted, "Come on, come on, for land's sake, check your phone!"

* * *

Never had sore knuckles felt so good to Donny. He was beyond seeing red. The world had become a tunnel and the only way forward was through Pops. A satisfying crunch rippled up his arm as he smashed the old shrew's face through the clock's glass case! Shards rained around them. He wanted to make this last, but the blues were closing in. He knew he needed to up the ante, make Pops forget about the cameras and fight back. Just one punch, that's all it would take. One punch from Pops on the news and he'd be arrested for assault.

He took a pawful of Pops' head fur and pointed his nose at the flyers above. "See that face, Pops? That's the face of your biggest mistake. Not because he was born. Not because you let him live. No, Michael was your biggest mistake because you couldn't do the right thing and let him be your son."

Pops let out a wet cough, "That's what it takes to keep us going, Donny. A li'l mistake can take us all down."

"Don't give me that crap! You got rid of my li'l brother and went after my baby niece! They ain't mistakes, they're our family! The only mistake around here is YOU!"

The impact was much softer than he expected, almost like a childish poke. The patheticness of the retaliation made a sense of pity come over Donny for his Pops. Even more pathetic was that traumatized gape Pops showed, as if for the first time in the old shrew's life he wanted to take it back. As the fighting below him got fainter and his body got heavier, Donny collapsed on his back, using the last of his dwindling strength to show the cameras the long glass shard stabbed into his chest.

* * *

Cameras turned away and the on-scene reporters quickly apologized and tried to explain what was just seen, but it was too late. The image had been broadcasted across the land and beyond the city's limits.

None said a word.

The only sounds were those of the scrambling news anchors.

"I'm sorry," blubbered Travis. "I tried to stop it. I tried to tell him where I put li'l Judy, I tried. I really did! I didn't mean to make this happen! I'm so so sorry!" The ferret broke down, letting out those tears Duke had saw coming at the beginning.

Cottontail gave Duke the phone and put the cuffs on him, "Travis Picklle, you're under arrest for conspiracy of kitnapping Judy Clawleone Big. Anything you say can and will..." and she went on with that damn speech she always gave Duke, but unlike when she gave it to Duke, the words came out tired and defeated. Duke knew exactly how she felt. They'd gotten their guy, but this was no victory. The phone in his paw showed the neverending commentary on the 'tragedy' that had befallen an innocent shrew in Little Rodentia.

"NOT K.I.A.! NOT K.I.A.!" a sudden notification dropped from the top of the screen.

"Wait, what?" asked Duke.

And then there was a MuzzleTime request from the same number. Not knowing what else to do, Duke answered and saw…

"Donny?!"

"Donny?" the copper twirled on the spot and ran to him.

"Hold the phone still!" the amazingly still alive shrew growled at someone behind the screen. He then pointed to the clocktower in the background where Pops was getting arrested. "There you go, ferret. Attempted murder. Enough for ya? Wait a second… Weasel? You were the mastermind behind this the whole time?!"

"Huh?! What? No!"

The copper grabbed the phone out of his paws, "How are you alive?!"

"Oh wondercop, there you are. Pretty convincing, huh? Think I set a personal record for shortest time playing dead." He opened his cut shirt and pulled out a pair of pink rubber cylinders. In one of them was a deep slice. "Thankfully, Mr. I-Like-To-Pretend-I'm-Deaf here gave me his spare earplugs. Anyways, where are you guys? Where's that fucking ferret who nearly froze me and the weasel? He got what he wanted, now he has to tell where's li'l Judy."

"He already sent it! Her location is on your phone!" choked the bunny through tears of relief.

"What was that? You got cut off."

"I said, check your phone!"

"Hold on a sec, I just got an email." Donny opened his messages, "Holy shit... I don't fucking believe it... She's..."

"OH!" shouted Duke and grabbed his face in a huge epiphany moment. "Oh Christ Almighty!"

"What?" asked Cottontail, "Don't tell me you suddenly figure out where she is."

"You're gonna hate me for dis," Duke sheepishly admitted, "but Donny juss reminded me dat I did see Travis commit a crime. He tranqued me before he kitnapped li'l Judy from me so ya coulda arrested him from da very beginnin'..."

The bunny stared at him.

"Ta be fair, you're da copper. When I sed he was our guy, ya shoulda figured out dat's what I meant." Duke shrugged, "So, ya only got yerself ta blame."

"Fuck you," said Judith Laverne Hopps.

END CHAPTER TEN

 _There is an epilogue! If you don't see it, refresh!_


	11. AND CREDIT

_This is the end. Beautiful friend. The end._ _My only friend..._

 **CA$H ONLY  
** _Epilogue: AND ¢REDIT  
_ By: I Write Big

"Red wire or blue wire? Which is it?!' screamed Officer Judas Hopson into his radio. His feeble bunny paw barely held onto the wirecutters as the bomb's countdown reached 20 seconds! There was no response. "Marmaduke? Come in! Duke, you there?! Which wire?!" Suddenly, the orphanage's window was smashed open and in flew on a sweet jetpack the coolest weasel Hopson had ever met.

"Sorry for being late. Ran into some turbulence," sassed Marmaduke 'Duke' Weselton in perfectly understandable english. He strapped the bomb onto his jetpack and set the thing to autopilot. The machine took off high into the air, zipping past the highest skyscraper in Zootopia!

3…

2…

1…

BOOOOM! A mushroom cloud of fire lit the sky and quickly dissipated! Disaster averted.

Judas donned his signature sunglasses. "Cut it pretty close there, partner."

Marmaduke chugged a fresh bottle of Phull Muun, "Come on, buddy, don't _blow_ it of proportion."

"Christ Almighty!" Duke groaned into his palms.

"Shh!" hissed the cub in the seat next to him. The kit's spit sprayed all over his wifebeater.

If there was an audience Duke hated more than lonely housewives, it was kits. The theater was jam packed with sticky-clawed, always talking, obnoxiously laughing at every bad poop joke kits! He couldn't believe what schlock these underdeveloped idiots would force their parents to watch. It was bad enough that barely anything in the movie was accurate to what really happened, but the plot holes they made were so jarring! Travis left li'l Judy at Mama Pikel's store while she was out! He didn't hide the kit in her own crib, in her own home, all the way back in Zootopia! And did they really have to make the product placement so obvious?!

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Duke turned to the leopard usher, his golden fur glowed in the dark theater. "What, `cause of dis?" He pointed to the tripod that aimed his recording phone at the screen. "It's my movie. I can bootleg it if I wanna."

"Sir, please don't ruin this for everybody else," the usher calmly urged.

Duke looked at the snot-nosed brats who were so enraptured with the crappy scene and sighed, "Fine, I'm goin', I'm goin'." He gathered his equipment and left the room just as the credit 'Associate Producer: Duke Weaselton' flashed across the silver screen.

He stepped out of the movie theater and reviewed the footage he managed to capture. It should be enough to finish the cut. There may be a few jumps here and there, but that's the price of not paying full price.

"So… Was the movie good?" a voice interrupted him. It was a bunny, all by her lonesome, approaching him outta nowhere. It was safe to say from how familiarly she smiled at him that this mammal thought they were acquainted with Duke, but Duke didn't recognize them.

He squinted at the rather attractive stranger, "Sorry, do we know each other?"

The bunny snorted, "Haha, funny, Weselton."

"Ya one of da Pikels or—Hey, it's Weaselton! No mammal calls me Weselton, except—" His ears folded back, "...Cottontail?" She gave him a cocky arm fold and a smug smile and Duke nearly hurled. "UGH! No! Christ Almighty, no!"

"What?"

"Ya ain't in yer uniform! You're dressed _normal_! And you look good!" He shielded his eyes from the disturbing sight. "Agh! I dink I'm gonna be sick!"

"HEY!" She flashed that anger usually reserved for when she was chasing him down the street. "I'm not always dressed for the job, I have a life! Is this your idea of complimenting a doe?"

"Dis is me comin' ta terms wit reality!" He took a deep shuddering breath, "Oh God, oh God..."

"Oh get over it!" grumbled Cottontail, "You worked with a _buck_ that looks just like _me_ for this movie. How are my leggings weirder than _that_?" She waved at the fembuck Judas Hopson on the 'Hard Cash' movie poster who was a near identical match to her. "Where did you even find that guy?"

"Bryan 'n I... we met in Bunnyburrow," Duke awkwardly dodged after he was sure he wasn't going to lose his lunch, "'N `fore ya ask, da execs forced us ta cast ya as a buck. Dey sed audiences would get confused if da two main characters were male 'n female 'n didn't hook up in da end."

"You and me?!" The bunny looked like she was going to hurl, "UGH! No! Cheese and crackers, no!"

"Yeah! Dat's what I sed!"

"You two okay over here?" The turncoat sauntered over and wrapped a green sleeve around the bunny. "Sounds like you're having another one of your classic shouting matches."

"We're fine, Nick," Cottontail gritted her buckteeth. Duke assumed she was trying to get the traumatizing images out of her head. "We're just, uh, how did you put it, Weaselton?"

"Comin' ta terms wit reality."

"That."

"Ha! Well, when you're done trying to achieve the impossible, Carrots, we should get to our seats. Good to see you, Weaselton, keep staying outta trouble."

Duke politely flipped him off. The fox kindly waved goodbye and headed into the theater, not even acknowledging the middle finger. That managed to piss Duke off even more.

"I'm proud of you, Weaselton. I really am." Cottontail warmly gazed at the movie poster, specifically at Duke's name that was squeezed into the paragraph of credits at the bottom, "Kind of amazed how your knack for tricking mammals translated so well into movie making, but still, I'm proud. You're actually trying."

A well of satisfaction sprung in Duke's chest. He'd never admit out loud how much a dumb bunny's respect had come to mean to him. Couldn't have her start growing an ego or something. "Eh, you'd be surprised how many connections a fella like Big has 'n he owed me fer helpin' find li'l Judy. Wasn't dat hard ta get dis off da ground. I warnin' ya now, if dis picture bombs, den it's straight back ta purse snatchin'."

She scoffed at his threat, "From the reviews I've been hearing, I don't think that's happening." Then she faced him and spoke with authority, "Okay, now that that's out of the way, I'm going to ask for your help with something personally embarrassing and you are _not_ going to laugh."

Duke laughed. Hard. After he caught her glare, he quickly stopped. "Sorry, I was gettin' da laughs out... Go ahead."

"Nick and I are seeing 'Love Comes Fur Me 2' and I'm not an… _expert_ when it comes to romance." The abrupt introduction of the alien concept of Cottontail having a sex life nearly made Duke hurl again. "So… since you know movies and, according to Gideon, know how to direct actors, can you, um, direct me in the best way to, uh, be romantic...?"

"Ya want me ta tell how ta seduce Wilde?" stared Duke.

She stared back, petrified somewhere between ashamed and mortified.

There was a powerful urge to use this newfound knowledge against Cottontail. The paths of sabotage he could lead her down to inevitable failure were so enticing. It would be such perfect revenge for the months of arrests! Duke shut it all out and reminded himself repeatedly that she was his pal.

"Ya sed 'Love Comes Fur Me 2,' right? `Round 47 minutes in, dere's a lovey-dovey scene where da mom hugs her kit 'n says, 'I'll never leave ya.' When dat happens, lean against Wilde 'n whisper inta his ear, 'Me neither.' Dat oughta do it."

The bunny stammered, "Th-That's it?"

Duke gave her a couple bucks, "Here, buy somethin' ta drink, `cause Wilde is gonna be kissin' ya from dat moment to all da way through da credits. Trust me, dat fox has got mommy issues." He stormed away, before this got even more fucked up.

The weasel beelined it back to his old crappy apartment and began transferring the bootlegged footage to his computer. When the first 'Hard Cash' royalties check had appeared in his mailbox, Duke had nearly impulsed bought a house. Then he realized that would require paying property taxes, paying a plumber to fix his toilet, and a mortgage owed to a _bank_. He promptly cashed the check and got himself several 12-packs of Phull Muun to empty into his sink. Why fix what ain't broke, right? The transfer completed and he got to editing.

 _Bzzzt._

Not missing a beat, Duke put the call on speaker while still dragging clips with his other paw, "Hey Donny."

"Weasel, my middle brother and Fru Fru are going out tonight and I got stuck with babysitting duty. Ya wanna stop by?"

Duke rolled his eyes, "So ya can _step out_ 'n stick me wit babysittin' duty again? Fat chance!"

"Aw, come on, Weasel. I know what'll convince ya." There was shuffling from the other end. He knew what was coming and tried to steel himself for the barrage.

"DUKE!" chirped the voice of li'l Judy, "Duke! Come! Play!"

He tried to resist, oh Lord, did he try! But it was useless, "Christ Almighty, fine, I'll be dere `round six. I gotta finish dis 'n make a delivery first."

"Too easy," chuckled Donny.

"Fuck it!" celebrated li'l Judy.

Duke hanged up and reviewed the cut. With the addition of today's footage, everything was finally in place. And yet, it didn't feel complete. There was no more content he could add to the film, but maybe… there was a sentiment that could go with it. Duke smashed open a bottle in the sink, grabbed the wad of cash, and dashed to the liquor store.

After dropping off the package and bribing every mammal who needed bribing, Duke arrived a little late at the Big Mansion where he was promptly abandoned by Donny. Despite his whining, the only company Duke really needed was li'l Judy. The baby shrew, though having grown a few hairs bigger, acted the same, clinging to the weasel the moment he walked through the door. The rest of the night was spent playing silly games, laughing at nothing, and finally a Dr. Zoos book. And as li'l Judy slumbered atop Duke's head, the weasel looked out the window and hoped someone in particular was happy with the package he delivered.

* * *

Travis Picklle picked at his lucky golden fang as he was led from his cell. It was after lights out, so the unexpected venture was a touch concerning, but he didn't show it. Rather than the warden's office or solitary or the high security wing where Clawleone was kept, the guards walked Travis into the prison library. On a table sat a laptop with a DVD halfway stuck into its disc slot. The guards sat him before the device and handed him a pair of headphones. With some hesitation, Travis put them on. The same guard then pushed the DVD the rest of the way in and a movie started. It opened with a cityscape shot of Zootopia.

An extremely poorly annunciated narration began, "Dis is da true story `bout how an everyday garbage-mammal took down one of da strongest mafia bosses in Zootopia."

Travis sputtered at what he was watching. The quality was so off. The entire frame had a layer of shadow over it, like it was a recording of a recording or something. Then the other guard slid to him something wrapped in brown paper. It resembled the shape of a tall can. Slowly he tore the clear tape and uncovered a glass bottle with a starry night sky but no moon. Instead, there was a halo of silver behind the words...

'Nuu Muun! From the brewmaster of Phull Muun! A recipe with a li'l of everything!'

"Dis story don't end da way ya expect fer da guy, but he sure as fuckin' hell put me 'n a whole lotta other assholes through a buncha shit. Not fer fame, not fer cash. He did dis all in da name of his family. 'N dat's what dis is `bout. Family."

Travis twisted off the cap and took a swig.

"Oh! That's… wow!"

"Good?" asked a guard.

"Good? This here's the greatest swill I've ever tasted!"

END OF STORY

* * *

 _And this is the part where I cynically point out that both Pops and Travis are filthy stinking rich and could easily buy their way out of prison, but hey, 'The Incredibles 2' already did that joke._

 _So concludes 'CA$H ONLY' and I hope you enjoyed the ride. Writing certainly has become an outlet for me and slowly but surely I feel like I'm improving. This was truly my first attempt at creating fleshed out original characters, which I've always struggled with. The next step logically is to craft my own original world, with fully original characters, in a fully original storyline. In other words, fiction. Actual non-fan fiction._

 _I'm planning to dedicate most of my creative time from now on to writing my own book. I still have some ongoing fanfics that I will continue, but they will most likely come out even slower than my usual tortoise-like speed. To every writer/reader who has followed and favorited me, I thank you with all my heart. Your praise, your criticism, your insight, and even your hate, it's all given me the confidence to keep challenging myself. To reach farther, dream harder, and write bigger._

 _It's a longshot to become an author. Historically speaking, some of the most recognized names in literature never got their first books published until the second half or even final third of their life. Not everyone who presses pen to paper will capture the imaginations of the reading world, but I hope one day that I will capture some. Just some. That'd be nice._

 _Regardless, I'll still be here and I'll still keep writing._

 _Just keep in mind that I write slow, I don't write often, but when I do, I Write Big._


End file.
